Fractured Souls
by Rhyska Nevar
Summary: With Carth out of commission, it falls to Rhyska to take his place in the swoop race. Inspite of the odds, Rhyska's convinced that she can win Bastila's freedom. But can she do it with no previous experience, or will help arrive from an unlikely source?
1. The Endar Spire

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**The Endar Spire

* * *

**The clatter of several trays dropping on the table near her head made Rhyska Nevar jerk awake in sudden surprise. Blinking away the sleep in her eyes, five blurry looking people came into focus. Beside her, three mercenaries, a scout, and a very purple Twi'lek chuckled and grinned at her expression of annoyance.

"You know, in certain parts of the galaxy, people get blasted for crap like that," Rhyska muttered darkly.

Taking that as an invitation, the five of them sat down around her and began simultaneously eating and cursing their rations.

"How in space can you sleep with all this racket?" the Twi'lek asked in amazement.

Rhyska thought about it for a moment as she looked around the mess hall. It was the middle of shift change and the place was filling up fast. Because the Endar Spire spent a great deal of time out in the space lanes, patrolling its given sector, the mess hall had become the unofficial area for most every kind of social interaction. Soldiers and techs poured in and out seeking the company of friends, idle gossip, and some food before and after their shifts. The clatter of eating utensils, shuffle of bodies, stomping of boots, and the constant chatter of voices reverberated around the room in an orchestra of noisy sound.

_Good question…_ She remembered grabbing a cup of caffa and sitting down, but she didn't remember more than that. _I must have been really tired._

Rhyska shook her head and reached for the cup of caffa she had set down earlier. "It's a gift. You can ask my bunkmate. I sleep like the dead," she replied, eliciting a couple of laughs from her friends. Eyeing her crewmates irritably, she drank down some lukewarm caffa and grimaced at its sour taste. Despite her bad mood, she managed a small smile as she watched them.

They had all met as perfect strangers on Manaan and been shipped off for a tour of duty aboard the Endar Spire together. In the three months that she had gotten to know them, they had developed the kind of bond only fellow loners could understand. Rhyska liked them all just fine. In fact, they were about the only people on board the rusty Republic bucket she liked at all.

The war between the Republic and the Sith Lord Malak had devastated the fleet's numbers, forcing them to begin hiring mercenaries and the like to flex out the ranks. Three mercenaries, a scout, a code splicer, and her own smuggling self rounded off their group of misfits among the Republic's dedicated own. Besides offering a wide array of skills for the Republic's disposal, they also happened to call the Outer Rim home, which is exactly why they were pulled for this particular tour.

Kelvin, Gadaar, and Merel were the human mercenaries the Republic had contracted in Manaan. They were a colorful bunch. Clashing often with the soldiers they were paired up with, they provided more than enough drama to entertain the whole of the Spire. Rhyska was often amused by the three of them. If they weren't irritating themselves, they were irritating someone else. Of course, it required little effort on their part.

As much fun as the boys were, they didn't entertain everyone. It rankled more than a few of the crew to know that the mercs were simply in it for the money and not because saving the ass end of the galaxy was the right thing to do. There was also the question as to whether or not the mercs would hold to their contract, which was stupid. Rhyska had rolled her eyes at some of the crew's inability to understand the very simple rule that all mercenaries lived and died by. Anyone who knew mercenaries knew that so long as they were paid, they would perform. However, if the credits stopped rolling for any reason, the contract was forfeit. So from day one, it was a pissing contest between the hard core soldiers and the riotous mercs.

Sandy haired, sleepy eyed Beltren was the scout of the group and the only one the crew was openly friendly with. As a scout, Beltren had been to many worlds, knew quite a few alien dialects, and was good in a fight. His quiet and easy going charm made him popular with the ladies, but the other reason he got along so well with the crew was that he was Telosian. He wasn't recruited for the war effort. He had volunteered.

Rhyska watched as Beltren flirted with some off duty med techs from another table. Beside him Gadaar, the dark haired explosives expert, cleaned off his tray. His brother Kelvin, the sharp shooter, muttered conspiratorially with Xirel, the Twi'lek. They shot devious looks in Merel's direction and Rhyska had a feeling things were about to get interesting. Her intuition was confirmed when Xirel nudged her foot with his and tapped his fingers on the table in quick succession.

Xirel was an expert code slicer who was always complaining about everything; his quarters, his roommate, his work schedule, his work, the food, and everything else under the blazing sun and starry sky. Xeril bitched and moaned like there was no tomorrow. Rhyska never failed to get a giggle out of watching Xirel cause havoc amongst their peers. She and Xirel had both been drafted into the fleet and were none too pleased with their assignments. Xirel did the job he was asked to do, but the price for his skill as a slicer was a never ending barrage of complaints. Unfortunately for his superiors, Xirel's skill really did outweigh his aggravating persona.

Merel, the heavy weapons specialist of the group, had barely touched his food. His attention was focused solely on Rhyska. He shared a knowing look with his fellow mercenaries before he asked with a grin, "How the hell are ya, Nevar?"

Rhyska narrowed her eyes and stared at him utterly vexed. If she'd had a stun baton on her, she would have jabbed Merel in the gut a couple of times just to watch him twitch. He knew damn well how she was doing.

"I don't know," Rhyska began acerbically. "How does it look like I'm doing?"

Merel pretended to consider her question for a moment as he gazed at her. From the first day they had met, he had found her to be an unusually attractive woman. Someone he would describe as more exotic than pretty. She had no really outstanding features other than the violet highlights in her black hair, a common trait in most Deralians. In fact, there were a handful of women currently in the mess hall that surpassed her in classically good looks. Merel supposed it didn't help that her body language usually warned people to _piss off_ before getting close enough to really see her.

"You look like a herd of nerf ran you down and then backed up."

Rhyska stuck her tongue out at him and drank down some more caffa. _She really did look like she'd been run through the ringer_, he thought to himself.

Her hair was a disheveled mess hastily pulled back into a knot and her usually smoothed bangs were askew. Her clothes were rumpled and she looked as though she had been wearing them for some time now. He watched as she yawned and rubbed her tired eyes. She looked like she could use some sleep.

She stretched, raising her arms over her head in an attempt to wake her body up. Merel hid a small smile as he watched her move. Whatever she lacked in looks, she made up for with a strange kind of feline grace he found mesmerizing. They often partnered together during weapons practice and he found himself admiring the way she moved whenever they sparred with vibroblades. The penalty for distracting himself with her athletic physique usually landed him on the flat of his back and her blade at his throat. Normally, being dumped on his ass by a girl might have embarrassed and even angered him, but Rhyska's playful nature and infectious charm salved his pride. Besides, he returned the favor as often as he could. He liked that he didn't have to hold back with her. When they sparred, they went all out.

There was a side to her that few on board the Spire ever saw. The friendships she had forged didn't extend beyond their tight knit group. It had become evident right from the start that she was the kind of girl that you either loved or hated. Of course, her superiors disliked her intensely. She was stubborn to a fault and treated everything as if it were just one big joke. Though she did as she was told, she only did what was required and with as little effort as possible. Her lack of effort to try and get on with the people around her bred suspicion, rumors, and dislike. She fueled the fire by saying or doing completely outrageous things, especially in front of the Jedi. Merel didn't know what it was about the mystics that set her off, but she exhibited a strange and inexplicable dislike for the champions of the Republic.

Though she was unpopular, she was not without skills. Rhyska was something of a _Jack of all Trades_. Though languages were her forte and one of the main reasons she was aboard the Spire, she was also a decent mechanic and was often pulled for tech duty. He also deduced from the way she and Xirel got on that she knew something about security and computer splicing. What little time she had to herself outside of her tech shifts, she spent improving her skills or learning new ones. In the last few weeks, Gadaar had introduced her to the wonderful world of explosives and more recently Rhyska had asked Beltren to help her improve her hand to hand combat skills.

On the rare occasion she wasn't using her time for self improvement, she used it for the one thing she did enjoy doing with the crew… gambling. The pazaak tournaments she hosted didn't require like or trust; in fact, it only required credits and a really good side deck. It was also the reason she was in such a surly mood this morning.

"Did the Lieutenant rip you a new one?" Merel pressed. The boys looked at her expectantly, awaiting confirmation.

"My ass is hanging off the bench isn't it," Rhyska replied acidly. That got her a few shaking heads and muffled chuckles.

They were all familiar with the weekly pazaak tournaments. They often dropped by in between sets to see who was losing and who was cleaning up, but none of them ever played. During that long shuttle ride to the Endar Spire they had all learned that playing with Rhyska meant losing more than just credits. It meant losing some of their best equipment. By the time they had reached the Spire, she had made off with Xirel's silver security cuff, Gadaar's spare grenade pouch, and Beltren's boot knife. He and Kelvin had been smart enough to stop gambling after they had run out of credits.

The night before last should have been like all the tournaments before, people playing, winning, and losing. That was how it started, but not quite the way it ended.

"So Rhyska, I heard you suckered that new pilot into playing for everything he had, right down to his skivvies," Beltren said in a low voice.

"Did you now," Rhyska muttered sarcastically.

Beltren grinned. "I heard he left your quarters bare assed and embarrassed, with nothing but his helmet covering his family jewels!"

Rhyska closed her eyes and shook her head as the lot of them began snickering. The pilot, whose name she couldn't even remember, had been razzed all the way back to his quarters by his fellow crewmates. They were all so busy pestering him they didn't notice a retinue of Jedi escorted by some officers exiting the turbo lift into the crew quarters. When the pilot had come to a screeching halt, his friends had run into him and knocked his only cover from his grasp. The end result left the pilot exposed in front of the small band of Jedi and an apparent Hero of the Republic. _Mortified_ didn't quite cover it.

"Yeah," Rhyska nodded with a tight smile. "That's about accurate."

From what Merel understood, it hadn't been much later that Ensign Ulgo, Rhyska's bunkmate, had dropped by with orders to escort her to the Lieutenant. She had been forced to return everything she had won that night, credits included. The Lieutenant had also confiscated Rhyska's pazaak cards and lucky side deck with strict orders banning the playing of pazaak on board the ship. He had also suggested that since she seemed to have so much extra time to herself, she could start her shift early. If the rumors were true, then Rhyska had been working for nearly forty-eight hours straight with only a few cat naps during breaks.

Merel felt bad for her, but he couldn't stop laughing because it was so damn funny. Kelvin shook his head in amazement. "How do you manage to get into these things?"

Rhyska shot him an icy look and hissed in exasperation, "It wasn't even my fault! I didn't make the kid gamble away his skivvies! I told him I was serious about playing and that he shouldn't bet anything he was gonna regret losing. Well, he did. Leaving the room without a stitch on was totally his choice. I'm not about to feel sorry about him flashing the Jedi and some visiting war hero!"

With a dismissive wave of her hand she muttered, "I'm sure everyone got a real thrill out of it anyway." They all continued laughing at her and Rhyska gave up and let them. She supposed if it had happened to one of them she'd be laughing…A lot. With a tired sigh, she downed the rest of her caffa and whined inwardly, _they didn't have to confiscate my pazaak cards and lucky side deck!_

Gadaar was chuckling at her disheartened expression when he spied a familiar pair of eyes gazing right at them. Plenty of people watched them, but they usually looked away whenever he caught them at it. The unwavering gaze of Trask Ulgo was focused, yet again, on Rhyska Nevar. "Your boyfriend's watching you again," Gadaar announced.

Rhyska frowned and the six of them all slowly turned to look directly at Trask, mimicking his blank stare. Trask's face was as unreadable as stone, but for a slight crook of the brow. She imagined all of them staring at him made him uncomfortable.

"Oh him? I forget his name. He's watched me from day one. The Lieutenant probably thought I was gonna rob everyone on the level blind." Rhyska tilted her head and watched as Trask shifted nervously in his seat.

"Probably doesn't want you or the other guy starting shavit over your little game," Xirel pointed out.

"Sore losers," Rhyska said under her breath. "Wave to the nice handler, boys."

With equally blank faces, they waved at Trask. His stony gaze faltered and for a moment he looked extremely perturbed at their action. They all snickered and turned back around.

"He seems all right," Rhyska began. "He's never gone through my things. He's like a polite, detached babysitter."

"Well, so long as you know," Merel muttered.

Rhyska shrugged. "He doesn't bother me." Beside her Xirel nudged her foot once more and tapped his fingers again, signaling her. Flicking a quick look at Kelvin, she noticed him slipping a small empty vile back into one of his many utility belt pouches.

Whatever prank they had planned was put into effect while everyone was distracted by Trask. Looking at Merel, she smiled. "You should finish your food before it gets cold, or at least drink something."

Merel returned her smile with a flirtatious one of his own. "That's the plan."

To the rest, she said, "I'm gonna enjoy sleeping for the next couple of hours. Unless they plan on crashing this rickety boat, don't bother waking me. I wasn't kidding when I said I sleep like the dead."

Rhyska stood and navigated her way around people and tables, nodding at Trask as she passed by and exited the mess hall. The only thought on her mind was falling into bed and maybe never getting up again.

Trask Ulgo sat a couple of tables away and watched as the specialty recruits erupted into laughter at one of their own. The object of their amusement, Rhyska Never sank against the table in dejection. Many of the nearby occupants of the mess hall were listening in on the conversation at that particular table. Everyone had heard of rumors of what happened the other day and they were all curious as to what had really gone on. He didn't have to wonder. He was there.

It had taken monumental effort not to burst into laughter or show emotion on his face when he, Commander Onasi, and the Jedi they had been escorting were flashed. To make matters worse, they had just finished a late briefing in which the Commander had argued that Malak's fleet had been sighted in the quadrant and that stopping at Taris would expose themselves unnecessarily. Jedi Shan had reminded Commander Onasi that _she_ had been given charge of the Endar Spire and not even he knew the parameters of their classified mission. She had stated, in no uncertain terms, that they were going to stop at Taris.

Trask expected to find either an upset or embarrassed superior officer staring at the scene before them. Instead, he was surprised to find that Commander Onasi was grinning at the startled group of Jedi and especially at Jedi Shan's look of shocked discomfort. They had excused themselves quickly, a male Jedi lending the young man his outer brown robe before leaving them standing alone in the hallway. Trask couldn't recall ever seeing Jedi make such a hasty retreat.

After imparting some words of wisdom to the younger pilot, the Commander left Trask with the duty of escorting the lot of them down to the On-Duty Lieutenant to report the incident before anything else happened. When the report was given and all but the pilot sent away, Trask was sent to pick up Rhyska.

The second Trask heard the word pazaak in the debriefing; he knew it could only be Rhyska. As her bunkmate, he was well aware of the little pazaak tournaments she held in their quarters. It wasn't even the first time someone had lost all their clothes in the game. This just happened to be the first time they got caught. Unfortunately, it was also going to be the last time.

Trask felt strange having her as a bunkmate and more than just for the crazy things she did. From the first day she had arrived, the Jedi had charged him with her surveillance. When they had asked him to keep an eye on her, he was somewhat conflicted. Part of him thought it was nothing more than a glorified babysitting job. Another part of him wondered what was so fascinating about this woman that the Jedi wanted her watched. The thing that bothered him the most was that according to the Jedi, she was equally as important as Bastila Shan, the Jedi renowned for killing the Dark Lord Revan. Watch her, guard her, and protect her: three very simple commands that left a trail of questions in their wake.

Rhyska Nevar had been on the ship a good long while and Trask had found her to be anything but dull. Still, the more he watched her, the more he wondered what it was exactly he was watching her for. He had come across a couple of Jedi before the tour on this particular ship and like most people, he knew that Jedi showed no emotions and that they controlled themselves in such a way that even their own bodies were honed to obey the slightest thought. He had heard some Jedi could hold their breath for hours, others could slow the beating of their hearts and place themselves into deep trances, and some of them could even absorb different kinds of energy.

The stuff he'd heard about the Sith were no less impressive, but a great deal more scary. He was a soldier and he followed orders. He didn't ask why, but Trask couldn't help but notice that on several occasions when Rhyska's behavior had bordered on volatile during melee weapon's practice, a few of the Jedi would watch her anxiously. Beneath a veneer of icy calm, Trask could see layers of fear. For reasons he couldn't fathom he was almost certain that the Jedi were afraid of the little smuggler. It was a thought he pushed to the back of his mind and tried to ignore. Every so often though, he would watch Rhyska and wonder what the Jedi had in store for her.

He called his thoughts back to the task at hand and found himself to be on the other side of the scope. Much to Trask's surprise they had all turned around and waved at him. He had hoped with so many people in the mess hall they wouldn't notice him, but they did. He did his best to hide how embarrassed he was. _Blast! I really hate this assignment!_

Trask looked away briefly after that, muttering to himself about not being cut out for covert spying of any sort. Rhyska had left shortly after that, nodding at him on her way out. She didn't look mad, she just looked tired. He was just getting ready to leave himself when a howl erupted from the table she was just at. Merel was hopping around, clutching at his throat, and making strange choking noises. Beltren and Gadaar looked confused and were pushing glasses of water to Merel. One of the pretty med techs had come over and began asking him medical questions. Trask noticed that Xirel and Kelvin were slowly edging away with feigned looks of shock and innocence.

Trask watched as Merel drank down as many glasses of water as he could until he rasped out, "Kelvin, you scrunty little bastard! You put Flameout in my drink!"

Kelvin didn't wait for Merel to jump over the table. He made a run for it while Xirel lost himself in the crowd, a very impressive thing to do considering his bright purple coloring. With that, chaos ensued as Merel chased his fellow mercenary out the nearest exit.

Trask shook his head and sighed. "One crazy thing after another..."

A couple of hours later, the answer to Trask's earlier question about the Jedi's interest in Rhyska came a lot sooner than he thought. The Endar Spire had just taken up orbit around Taris and was in the process of ironing out shore leave on the skyscraper world when the first hit rocked the ship.

Like a vine snake rearing its head to strike, Sith Destroyers and small range fighters slithered out from behind Taris and moved to intercept. The Spire rocked again and the battle station alarms sounded off. Orders were being barked left and right and for a moment Trask was lost. His hand was sliding down to his holster for his blaster when she appeared beside him. Auburn bangs were swept to the side and her hair was secured into pig tails. Piercing gray eyes rimmed in cobalt blue with arched brows and full lips were the focal point in a creamy oval face. It was almost enough to distract him from the small, slightly upturned nose and the stubborn set of her jaw.

_She was prettier than a Jedi had right to be,_ Trask thought absently_. _Beauty was wasted on the Jedi… So was attraction, but there was power in her. Even Trask could feel it in her stare. Her lean and shapely form was held rigid as the ship was rocked by enemy fire once more. "The smuggler," Bastila said to him. "She needs to get off the ship."

"It looks like everybody's gonna need to get off the ship, Master Shan," Trask pointed out flatly.

"I am not a master," Bastila corrected him as she steadied herself against one of the computer terminals. "And you're right. We need to get off this ship, but it is imperative that _she_ escape as well. I need you to find her and bring her to the bridge."

"Aye-aye, ma'am," Trask said grimly as he pulled his blaster pistol and high tailed it down the corridor.

He barreled past other crew members who hurriedly rushed to their assigned posts. Techs and droids were desperately trying to repair and reroute damaged conduits. Their efforts shut down a good portion of the elevators on the level he was on. Trask cursed as he had to find a secondary route to the crew quarters. Cutting through the mess hall, he found a working elevator and headed for his quarters, desperately hoping that because the attack was happening on his shift, she'd be sleeping, or at least nearby.

A group of armed guards followed by Kelvin, Gadaar, and Merel went running past him, armed to the teeth and tossing grenades to one another before splitting off in two separate teams. Beltren came running up with some of the medical staff and Xirel, who was muttering to himself in wild tones and clutching at his head tails protectively.

"Trask!" Beltren called out. "What in space is going on?"

"We've been ambushed by the Sith," Trask explained as he passed them by. "Have you seen Rhyska? Never mind. If you haven't got orders, you should get up to the bridge quick as you can."

"Where are you going?" Beltren hollered to Trask who was picking up his pace.

"I'm following my orders," Trask threw over his shoulder as he ducked down another corridor. Another blast rocked the ship violently and sent Trask sprawling on to the floor. A familiar voice on the coms sounded out, "All hands to battle stations! I repeat…All hands to battle stations!"

Trask picked himself up and pushed onwards. He had begun running again when the sound of blaster fire rang out behind him. A Sith trooper was shooting at him. Trask turned around the corner and fired at the intruder. Repeated shots to the chest melted through the substandard bronzed armor and Trask cursed under his breath, "What huttspawn assigned me a room at the end of the longest flaming hallway on this blasted ship?"

He finally made it to his room without incident, but the alarms were still ringing and blaster fire could be heard in the distance. A firefight was in progress and he didn't want to be caught in it.

He rushed into his room and what he saw completely baffled him. On the one hand she was in the room, which saved him the trouble of tracking her down. On the other hand she was out cold or still asleep, he couldn't tell which. Quickly, he sealed the door to their room and went to her. It looked as though she had fallen out of her bed. Her body was twisted slightly, with her head and most of her torso resting on the cold floor. A thin blanket was tangled around her and her legs were still somewhat propped up on the bed. She snored loudly, much to Trask's surprise and he could see a small amount of drool collecting on the floor. He arched a brow and knelt down beside her.

Shaking her shoulders, he hollered in her ear, "Nevar! Wake up!"

Instantly, she was a twitching mass of groggy nerves. "Wha yer want? Slipping…"

"We've been ambushed by a Sith battle fleet! Come on, Nevar! We are under attack! We don't have much time!" Trask patted her cheeks smartly to wake her up.

She swatted at his hands and pulled herself into a sitting position on the floor and asked dazedly, "What? Who are you?"

Another hit rocked the already fragile ship causing Trask to steady himself against her bed frame. "Force preserve us! How hard did you smack your head when you hit the floor?"

Rubbing dark eyes still foggy with sleep, she asked, "I hit my head?"

Trask howled and grabbed at his hair before bounding over to her footlocker and grabbing her things. Throwing her clothes at her, he hollered, "Put those on! I'll see if you have anything we're gonna need. This is obviously going to take awhile, so we are either going to blow up with the ship, or die in an ambush by the invading Sith."

While Trask sorted through her weapons and gear, Rhyska slipped into her red and gray uniform. "What the hell was your name again?"

"My name is Trask Ulgo. I'm an ensign with the Republic fleet aboard the Endar Spire." Looking at her pointedly, he said, "That would be the name of the ship we are on."

Rhyska nodded as she strapped on her lucky black space boots, slid in her boot knife and began filling her utility belt and grenade pouch with some tools and goodies from a box underneath her bed.

"We share these quarters, but I work the swing shift so I suppose that's why you don't recognize me."

"No, I recognize you," Rhyska muttered as she buckled her stealth unit. "I just can never remember your name, plus I'm a little bit slow to wake up."

She slipped a blaster into her hip holster and pulled her hair back into a pony tail. Hooking her vibroblade to her belt, she brushed back loose tendrils of hair behind her ears as she scanned the room for her security cuff. Locating it on the nightstand nearby her bed, she slapped it on and exclaimed, "I'm all set. Let's blaze, roomie. Where are we off to?"

Trask went to the door and used his security codes to unlock it. He peeked out the door and held his blaster pointed up and ready to fire. "We've got to hurry. We need to find Bastila! We need to make certain she makes it off the ship alive."

Rhyska followed closely behind him, her vibroblade ready for action. "Who's Bastila?"

"Blast it! She's our commanding officer! Well, not really, but she is in charge of this mission. Are you screwing with me? How could you not know that?" Trask growled impatiently. "In the event of an attack, kind of like the one we're in the middle of right now, it's our job to make sure she survives."

He rushed down the corridor with Rhyska running along side him. He was a good foot taller then she was, so she made up for his long strides with extra steps. They ran past an astromech droid repairing a damaged wall unit until they came to a full stop in front of a sealed door.

Trask set a large hand on her small shoulder and said quite seriously, "I've heard all about you, Nevar. I know you ran spice and arms for the Hutts before getting pinched by the Fleet. You haven't exactly been the sterling soldier, but you swore an oath just like everyone else on board this ship. It's time to make good on that oath, especially if you don't want to die!"

Rhyska shook off his hold and pulled a security spike from her cuff and began splicing the door, even as Trask continued. "Not sure why the Republic thought that someone with your shady past would work with the Fleet, but I guess they figured that if they couldn't catch you, they might as well hire you. Desperate times call for desperate measures..."

"Who's desperate? And what do you mean my shady past?" Rhyska narrowed her eyes and pointed at the door with her security spike. "You want me to open this door or not?"

Trask nodded. "I'm just saying that no matter what your reasons for signing on with the Fleet, you're one of us now and Bastila needs us."

The door slid open and Rhyska unhooked her vibroblade. "All right already! I get it! Find Bastila. Let's just get to it before somebody ventilates us."

She was just about to step through when blaster fire erupted in flashes of red lights up and down the hallway. There were Sith and Republic soldiers on opposing sides firing on one another. Trask pulled her behind him and readied his blaster. Rhyska hoped he was a good shot, because it hadn't taken long for the three poor suckers wearing the red and gold Republic uniform to fall.

Trask bellowed, "For the Republic!" before jumping out into the middle of the hall and began to blast at the Sith. Rhyska shook her head and followed.

It took a moment for the Sith to realize that Trask was not alone, but by then it was too late. Rhyska dodged and weaved around the blaster bolts and brought her vibroblade up, slashing downwards. The blade caught one Sith in the neck and ripped down across his chest, cutting through fabric before stopping at the bronze plate. Blood rushed out from the tear in his neck as he fell to the deck and twitched. Trask took out the other Sith with a few well placed blaster bolts and smiled at her grimly.

"Just one thing," Rhyska said as she pointed her vibroblade at him. "No more battle cries. If the ship is going down, we really don't need to inform people we're still here. Let's just kill them before the spot us, all right?"

Trask grinned at her and said, "Yes, ma'am!"

And with that they were off and running. They cut and blasted their way to the bridge. Trask stopped just long enough to allow Rhyska to relieve the dead of their unused medpacs, spare parts, and computer spikes. He didn't say anything when she stripped the dead of their blasters, vibroblades, grenades, and armor. She didn't inform him anytime she found spare credits. They were almost to the bridge when a voice roared from their com units and attracted unwanted Sith attention.

Rhyska threw a frag grenade at a cluster of Sith and watched them crumple as the grenade exploded into a volley of shrapnel, slicing into their bodies and shredding them. Trask listened to the voice, the way a drowning man clung to a life raft.

A warm tenor voice called out on the com, "This is Carth Onasi, the Sith are threatening to overrun our position. We can't hold out long against their fire power. All hands to the bridge!"

Trask looked like he'd just been sucker punched. His blue eyes were wide and he ran a free hand through his sweat soaked blonde hair, as he took in the information Carth hadn't yet said aloud. _We are losing_.

He looked at Rhyska who had just finished pilfering salvageable items from the bodies around her. "The man on our com unit is one of the fleet's best pilots. Carth Onasi, a war hero from the Mandalorian Wars." After a moment's hesitation, a tight, grim smile worked it's way across Trask's face. "When he says it's bad, you better believe it."

His head hung a little and for a moment he seemed defeated, but then he looked up at her and flashed her a shaky smile. "Come on. We need to get to the bridge to help defend Bastila."

Rhyska matched him grin for grin. "Then let's move it, mister."

They fought their way down a few more corridors before Rhyska spliced through a locked door. As the doors slid open they found two figures spiraling and cutting at one another with blades of light. A pale man shrouded in the robes of a dark Jedi and small, frail looking woman dressed in the robes of the light.

"It's a dark Jedi!" Trask exclaimed. "Let's hang back. We don't want to get in the middle in this action, might lose something." Rhyska wasn't going argue his point. She preferred her limbs the way they were, attached to the rest of her body.

So they watched as light and dark battled for an edge. Parrying and blocking, thrusting and feinting, dancing around each other until an opening presented itself. Rhyska broke the two of them down in her mind. The dark Jedi was strength and brute force. He lacked finesse and had yet to master the art of dueling. The woman seemed to suffer the same lack of training, but what she lacked in knowledge and strength, she made up for with speed and agility.

Before the dark Jedi could counter the female Jedi's oncoming stroke, she feinted and whipped her blade around neatly severing his head from his neck. His head toppled off of his neck as his corpse sank to the floor. The Jedi let go of the breath she had been holding. Dropping her head back, she breathed in deeply. Beside Rhyska, Trask grinned and pumped his fist in the air as he whooped and hollered, "Yeah!"

The exhausted Jedi turned to them slowly. A tiny smile was blossoming on her face when suddenly, the conduit behind her exploded in a burst of heat and light. A volatile amount of electricity engulfed the already bone weary Jedi, stealing her victory and leaving her slumped over the form of the Sith she had just vanquished.

Trask was deathly silent as he tried to process what had just happened.

Rhyska shook her head and said to no one in particular, "Well, that was messed up!"

Waking up from his reverie, Trask cursed, "Damn! That was one of the Jedi accompanying Bastila. We could have used her help!"

"Operative words being _could have_," Rhyska said dryly. She looked at Trask who looked back at her with narrowed eyes. She gestured towards some doors with her vibroblade and began walking. "Come on, the bridge isn't far now."

They battled their way to the bridge and found that the Sith were already there. A small skirmish was happening at the central command station, but two troopers hanging back from the fight caught sight of Trask and Rhyska first.

A massive explosion rocked the command station as Rhyska drove back the trooper with a flurry of movement. She raised her blade and brought it down on him. He blocked it and tried to push her back. Snapping her foot out, Rhyska delivered a sharp kick to his sternum and drove her vibroblade into the soft material between the plates of the trooper's bronzed armor. As she withdrew her blade, the trooper slid to the floor with a keening moan.

Rhyska turned her attention to Trask, who was fending off a vibroblade attack with a blaster. Coming up behind the Sith, she cut into him with deft strokes, distracting him from Trask, who ended the Sith's short life with a blaster shot to the face.

Trask injected himself with kolto from a medpack and muttered with relief, "Thanks for that."

"Any time," Rhyska answered back as she took out one of her salvaged medpacks and took care of business. A quick scan around the room assured Rhyska that they were the only people left alive on the bridge. None of the personnel that were in the fight by the console had made it. As a matter of fact, thanks to the help of several frag grenades, there were pieces of soldiers, both Sith and Republic, everywhere.

Rhyska grimaced. Her eyes stung from the heat of the smoldering corpses and consoles, scanning for any trace of Trask's Jedi. All she got was an unbearable whiff of cooked flesh and the desire to retch.

"Bastila's not here on the bridge," Trask said as he checked over the corpses nearby. "They must have retreated to the escape pods. We better head that way, too."

Rhyska shot him a pointed look and replied sarcastically, "You think?"

Trask shook his head and made his way to the other door on the bridge. "You don't understand! The Sith want Bastila alive. If they figure out she's not on the ship, they're gonna blast the Endar Spire into galactic space dust!"

Rhyska's brown eyes grew wide and she hollered, "What are we standing here for then? Let's get the hell outta here!"

She followed Trask out of the bridge and into yet another corridor. Rhyska had begun splicing a door on the right as Trask kept an eye open for Sith troopers.

A rustle of movement caught Trask's attention. Following the sounds to a sealed door on the opposite end of the hallway, he leaned in close and listened, making out footsteps. Frowning, he turned to Rhyska and whispered, "Hey, there's someone behind this door!"

The door Rhyska had been working on finally slid open and she waved him over. "Come on, you don't know who's behind there. Leave it."

He eyed her irritably and snapped, "It could be Bastila on the other side or another Republic soldier."

"Yeah, and I can think of all the other things it could be, too," Rhyska said uneasily.

Ignoring her sarcastic remark, Trask touched the door and jumped back in alarm as the door's locking mechanism disabled with a click. It slid open revealing a menacing figure dressed in the robes of a dark Jedi, a ruby red lightsaber thrumming in his grip.

Trask saw Rhyska from the corner of his eye. She gripped her vibroblade and moved slowly towards the enemy.

The dark Jedi smiled maliciously and dropped into an offensive fighting stance. Time stopped for Trask Ulgo then. In his mind's eye, a pair of stormy blue eyes belonging to the woman the Republic called their last hope, beseeched him. _It is imperative that she escape!_

"Damn it all," Trask said, cursing his luck. He fired on the dark Jedi and moved into the room forcing the Sith to alternately move back and deflect the blaster shots with his lightsaber. "I'll try to hold him off. You get to the escape pods!"

Rhyska screamed, "Trask?! What the hell are you doing?!"

Trask disappeared behind the sliding doors as Rhyska came running towards him. Rhyska smacked her vibroblade against the doors and then tried splicing it. The distinct sound of blaster fire on the security mechanism on the other side of the door blocked any attempt at getting to him. Rhyska heard the unmistakable sound of a lightsaber whizzing through the air and a short abrupt cry that made her heartbeat falter.

With a frustrated howl she slammed her fist into the door and then ran for the escape pods. There were a few brief moments back there when she was certain they were going to make it. Then Trask had to go on and get all manly. _What in blazes made him do a thing like that?_ she wondered furiously.

She had come to a corridor that was two rooms away from the escape pods when Carth's voice erupted loudly from the com unit. "Crewman, this is Carth Onasi. I've got your position on the Endar Spires' life support system. We're the last two fleet members onboard, Bastila and everyone else have already jumped ship and the Sith know it. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to wait. You need to double-time it to the escape pods. Now!"

Rhyska hissed into her com, "Shut up! Are you trying to get me killed?"

She received nothing but static from the other end, but too late. A Sith trooper heard noise coming from her general direction and headed her way.

Rhyska switched on her stealth unit and waited the few steps it took for the trooper to get close enough to her. She slowly closed in the distance between them as her stealth unit gave out. With one smooth motion, she slashed her vibroblade across his neck and kept on moving, not bothering to watch him to crumple onto the floor.

Two more Sith appeared from around the corner. Rhyska tossed a frag grenade at them, killing one and mortally wounding the other. She finished him off with a few strokes of her blade and then spliced into the door beyond. Two Sith troopers stood at attention with their blasters. Frustrated with the never ending line of Sith that stood between her and freedom, she tossed her last two frag grenades at their feet and ducked for cover.

As she walked into the room, Carth interjected a little information Rhyska's way. "Not that I'm trying to get you killed or anything," he muttered sarcastically, "but there's about a half a dozen Sith behind that door. You might want to think about thinning them out."

Rhyska shot a dirty look at the camera in the corner of the room as she raided the footlocker and canister before quickly searching the fallen Sith.

"Some time today would be nice," Carth said impatiently over the com unit as she began splicing into the computer terminal by the door.

Using up all but two of the computer spikes she'd collected, Rhyska overloaded a power conduit in the room, killing all of the Sith troopers. Splicing through the door, she stopped briefly to relieve the dead of what little they left behind, including their indestructible credits and much needed medpacks.

Another hit rocked the ship as she spliced through the final door. As it slid open, Rhyska came face to face with the Republic hero Trask spoke so highly of. Carth Onasi, the man behind the voice. Surprisingly, Rhyska found that he was quite attractive.

Whatever irritation he had felt before seemed to have dissipated. Sounding quite relieved, he said, "You made it! I was worried that the last blow to the ship was gonna knock out the power grid to the escape pods, but they're still a few active ones left. Come on, we have to get off the Spire. She can't take another hit like that."

His words washed over Rhyska who took the opportunity to study him while he prattled on. He looked like he had about eight to ten years on her, but he wore it quite well. He was dressed like a civilian, wearing black slacks and a rather eye catching orange jacket. Despite all that, she could tell he was physically fit and lean. His face was ruggedly handsome, his hair something of an uncooperative auburn mess, and his eyes were a warm brown. He had a scruffy sort of quality about him. Even so, Rhyska decided that the five o'clock shadow worked the scruffy angle in his favor. Still, she couldn't quite bring herself to believe that the stick in the mud, disembodied voice belonged to the same man standing before her. "Who are you again?"

A note of impatience and irritation colored his tone as he explained, "We don't have time for this. The Sith are retreating, that can only mean they're gonna take out the ship and I don't want to be here when she goes. So how about we put some distance between us and the big bang, alright?"

Not waiting for her to move, Carth grabbed Rhyska by the hand and steered her towards the waiting escape pod.

"Hey," Rhyska said uneasily as she looked around the pod. "There's only room for one in here!"

"Yeah, well," Carth said dryly as he pushed her in. The inside of the pod was like the inside of a small fighter ship. Though it offered up a tad more room, it was without weapons and substantial control. A seat was in the middle of the vessel close to some controls. Not knowing what else to do, Rhyska moved away from the console and up as close to the wall of the pod as she could get, while Carth lowered himself down.

"We aren't going to be floating in space. We're going down to Taris so oxygen levels won't be an issue," he assured her as he sealed off the entrance. Strapping himself into the chair he punched in a set of sequences and some co-ordinates.

Rhyska leaned over to watch what he was doing when the escape pod suddenly lurched and shot out from the Endar Spire. Rhyska yelped as she fell back against the small space between the chair and the pod wall as the pod accelerated for entry into the planet's atmosphere.

Carth's hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist. He pulled her across his lap, even as Rhyska tried to push away. "Oh! For crying out loud! Lady! I am not trying to feel you up, but if you don't hold on to me before we crash into the planet, you are going to bounce around this pod like a mynock in a crater worm's belly!"

Rhyska shot him a quelling look, but when the proximity alarm starting going off inside the pod, she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life.

As Carth wrapped his arms around her waist, two thoughts crossed his mind just before the pod touched down onto the planet with a bone crushing thud. The first was that the woman in his arms was going to cause him an endless parade of headaches, of that there was no doubt. The second thought that meandered through his mind was the one that bothered him the most. He found it oddly disturbing that for a woman who was drenched in the sweat of battle and the blood of others, she smelled strangely intoxicating. He squeezed her tightly to him and breathed in the scent of her hair once deeply before the world blacked out and the pod descended on the city below.

When he had finally regained consciousness, Carth's eyes flew open at the sound of the proximity alarm, thankfully obnoxious enough to wake him up from crash. Shaking his head to clear out the mess and the pain, he realized that there was a warm weight pressed against him in the pod and remembered the woman from the Spire. She was draped across his lap and completely still.

_Not a good sign,_ Carth thought as he gently supported her head and shifted her into a sitting position. He held her against him with one arm and switched the alarms on the pod off with the other. He tapped the release button for his seat straps as he looked her over. Whoever she was, she was still breathing, even if it was a bit shallow. She didn't seem terribly damaged except for what could be described as a fantastic blow to the back of her head, but he wasn't a doctor. _I hope she doesn't have any internal injuries. Can't fix that on the fly._

Carth knew he that she needed some kolto injections, but she didn't seem to be in danger of dying on him just yet. Her health would have to wait just a little bit longer. They had to get out of the pod first.

He set her carefully down on the floor and unsealed the hatch. A quick scan outside told him that they were protected by the cover of night. That was one point in their favor. The second was that he must have regained consciousness right after the crash. No one was here yet, but that would change.

Carth grabbed the small pack she carried with her and tossed it on the ground along with her vibroblade. He maneuvered her back into his arms and lowered her carefully, feet first out of the hatch. He tried to avoid sliding her against the hot metal of the pod, but was more concerned with dropping her on her head.

As he landed on the permacrete of Upper City Taris, he could see in lights in the distance. _Coming to investigate the crash, no doubt._

Hooking her vibroblade into his belt, Carth slung her pack over his shoulder, and scooped her up. Silently, he headed for the nearest building.

**Author Note:

* * *

**Yes, yes. I've been tinkering with the first chapter again. I can't seem to stop myself. As always, big thanks to BrynNevan and Vaguely Familiar for all their beta reading. I don't think I could ever have come this far without their help. To the wonderful people who constantly give me feedback, you are so awesome! Feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing.


	2. Upper Taris

**Disclaimer: **I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**Upper Taris

* * *

**  
The dreamscape within Rhyska's mind was a shadowy, shifty place. As she stood in the middle of a long dark hall, she gazed at her surroundings. There were doors on both sides of the corridor and, instinctively, Rhyska knew that they would take her to different dreams if she wished it.

Taking a closer look at the entryways, she highly doubted that any of the dreamscapes behind them were sweet or fluffy. The crackled and warped display of shadowy rainbow colored doors left her feeling cold and wary. It was easy to imagine realms of twisted dreamscapes behind the petrified wood.

Rhyska took a step towards the closest entryway. Icy chills raced up her bare foot as it made contact with the floor. Looking down, she frowned at her naked legs and bootless feet. Her hands tugged a flimsy calf-length charcoal robe tight to her body. Warily, Rhyska backed away from the door, not in the least bit interested in taking on whatever lay beyond wearing practically nothing. _Where is my gear?_ _Better yet,_ w_here are my blades?_

A flash of light at the end of the hall called her attention to a smooth silvery wood. Before she could think it through, Rhyska's feet began moving towards the strange new entryway. Her hand reached out until her fingertips brushed against the surface of the door. Suddenly, it opened and a blinding white light engulfed the hallway.

Tendrils of light surrounded Rhyska and pulled her in. Just as suddenly as the light appeared, it vanished_. _It lefther standing in the command center of a ship she didn't recognize. Battle ensued around her, both inside the room and out in the cold of space.

By the entryway of the command center, a young woman with auburn hair wearing rust and orange colored robes fought back a gray and black robed figure. Her sun-dipped lightsaber beat back her opponent's in a series of feints, parries, and thrusts. Proving to be the better duelist, she quickly cut down her opponent and stepped forward.

_Jedi…_Rhyska's mind whispered. The auburn haired woman was a Jedi and so were the two men and woman that came up along side her. The Jedi swung her golden blade up into a defensive stance, her companions following suit as they ignited blades of violet and green.

The four of them edged closer and closer to her, their expressions determined and slightly fearful. It took a moment before Rhyska realized they didn't actually _see_ her. In fact, they seemed to be looking past her. Slowly, she turned and looked at what had the Jedi up in arms.

Suspended in mid air was a soldier wearing the Republic colors of red and gold. He made guttural choking sounds as his hands tore at an invisible claw holding him up by his throat.

A few feet away from the struggling soldier was the Sith the Jedi had come for. A gloved hand was clenched in a tight fist and dark robes billowed menacingly around the masked figure. The Sith, whoever he was behind his Mandalorian mask, uttered not one single word. Not even when his fist made a sudden and sharp motion.

The dull echo of the soldier's neck snapping was followed by the sound of his body falling to the floor with a loud clatter. Rhyska swallowed hard as she heard the Jedi in the rust colored robe hiss at the masked figure, "You cannot win, Revan!"

The Sith replied by activating his blood-red lightsaber and taking a fighting stance, ready for a multiple assault. Behind him, a massive cruiser sailed amongst a sea of stars. Before either side could engage in combat, Rhyska watched in wide eyed horror as the cruiser fired several shots directly at the bridge, violently rocking the ship and sending its occupants flying.

Explosions erupted all around them, filling the air with the smell of burnt flesh and scorched metal. Wires from exposed terminals were sparking and others were on fire. Shocked to find herself still standing, Rhyska's gaze swept over the Jedi that lay dead on the floor.

Only the Jedi in the rust colored robes drew in deep, shaky breaths. Slowly, she got up and glanced at her fallen comrades before scouring the vicinity for the Sith. She crawled over rubble to where he lay bloody and dying.

Rhyska watched as the Jedi leaned in close to the figure whose life was slowly ebbing away into the ever after. A look of concern, resolve, and hope intermingled on the young woman's face as she placed a hand on the Sith's chest and transferred her life essence.

A burning sensation gripped Rhyska's heart and squeezed, causing her to scream in agony. The Jedi and the Sith were forgotten as she was engulfed in light once more and hurtled back through the dreamscape and into reality…

--

As a star pilot, Carth Onasi had the luxury of traveling through many systems in the Galactic Republic. He'd been on many worlds and while Taris was no Nar Shadaa, beneath its many layers it was just as rotten to the core. Even with the Sith occupation, Carth got the distinct impression that upper citizens of Taris were normally about as warm as an iceberg.

It had been three days since they had crashed on Taris. He spent as much of it as he could in the apartment with his unconscious charge, but the need for food and information drove him out periodically. Sitting at a table near the bed, Carth scanned his patient's service record on a datapad he had found in her pack.

Rhyska Nevar, Civilian Tech Support and Linguist._ Huh, civilian. That explains the attitude. _Reading down a little further, Carth came across some information that set off alarms in his head.Transfer requested from Manaan facilities to the Endar Spire by Jedi Knight Shan.

Gazing over at her sleeping form, Carth smiled grimly and informed his unconscious charge, "The Knight who requested your transfer is the very one you're going to help me track down." Carth shook his head and chuckled. "Now that's what I call ironic."

His face went slack and his eyes narrowed suspiciously on his charge. Carth was almost willing to call her survival lucky, but he was a pessimist by nature. Experience taught him that nothing that sounded this good ever was.

Tossing the datapad onto the table, Carth propped his feet up and surrendered to fatigue. Before his eyes closed, the cynic in him wondered who Rhyska Nevar was and in what fashion would she betray him.

--

A hair-raising scream woke Carth out of his short lived sleep cycle, nearly causing him to fall off his chair. Rushing over to her side, Carth couldn't help but wonder if he wouldn't die of a heart attack before she had the chance to betray him.

Her dark head whipped from side to side and her limbs twitched uncontrollably, reacting to what he could only imagine was one hell of a nightmare. Quickly, Carth injected her with another shot of kolto and listened as her screams subsided into anguished cries while the healing drug neutralized her pain.

Carth tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose. Looking back at his charge, he noticed that her blanket had slipped off the side of the bed. _Probably while she was thrashing about._

Grabbing the blanket, he drug it back over her unconscious form and was just about to tuck her in when she shot up from the bed with a sob. Carth grabbed her flailing hands and searched her face for signs of lucidity. A pools of black stared back at him, wild and disoriented. Frantically, she tried to free her arms from his grip.

"Hey! It's all right! You're safe now," Carth said as soothingly as he could. He let go of her arms and cupped her face and looked her in the eye. "Everything's all right. You're safe."

He repeated it over and over until the fear in her eyes dissipated, leaving him to stare into brown orbs flecked with gold and green shafts of light.

When her ragged breathing had slowed down, he stood up and gestured towards a small kitchenette. "I'm going to get you a drink of water. Just rest here for a sec, okay?"

Rhyska watched Carth walked away. With each breath of air, she willed the nightmare away and tried to focus on the present. Her eyes darted around the room and took in the small run down apartment.

Looking down at herself, Rhyska realized that someone had removed her uniform and left her in her jumper. She shot a look in Carth's direction as memories of the previous events floated back into the forefront.

She remembered the ship, the Endar Spire. Trask. Jedi. Fighting and looting. Carth. The escape pod. Carth holding on to her as they crashed into the planet. Her neck whipping back at the impact. Her head smacking into the pod wall. Pain… Lots and lots of pain.

Rhyska groaned as the back of her head suddenly began to throb, as though it were happy to confirm that she had indeed suffered a head injury. Her neck also felt painfully stiff. _Hope nothing's permanently damaged._

Carth came back to her and handed her a cup of water. "That was some nightmare you were having. Just about stopped my heart. Glad you're awake, though. I was just about ready to get you a doctor."

"Thanks," she rasped. Rhyska grimaced at the sound and feel of her voice. Her throat was a lot drier than she thought. She was suddenly grateful that Carth had thought about water. Speaking was going to hurt.

He nodded and gave her an encouraging smile. "Do you remember me? I'm Carth Onasi. We were in the escape pod together."

"Carth, the one on the communicator. Yeah, I remember." Rhyska sipped down some more water, her throat delighting in the cool rush of liquid.

Carth breathed a sigh of relief. "We're on Taris. You banged your head up pretty good when we crashed, but I wasn't seriously injured. I was able to get us to a nearby complex. That's where we are right now, hiding in one of their abandoned apartments. We've avoided the Sith so far. They searched through the complex yesterday, but they missed us. With any luck, they won't be back and we'll be safe--at least for a little while longer."

"Wow," she murmured out loud. _Just a bit more information than my injured head can take, _Rhyska thought to herself. Instead, she said as gratefully as she could manage, "I guess I owe you my life. Thanks."

"There's no need for thanks," Carth said in all seriousness. "I've never left a fellow soldier behind, not if I could help it."

Rhyska watched him from beneath her lashes as she sipped down some more water. _Don't thank me, he says? When somebody saves your life they don't do it for nothing. So what is his price for my life, I wonder?_

She didn't have to wonder for very long as Carth continued on. "Besides, I'm going to need your help. The Sith have sent down an occupation force to keep the Tarisians in line and they've put up a planet wide quarantine. No one is going anywhere, anytime soon. Especially not with the Sith fleet orbiting the planet, but don't worry. I've been in worse spots."

_Ah, the other shoe drops._ Arching a brow, Rhyska said dryly, "Have you now? That's comforting."

If he noted her sarcasm, he didn't bother showing it. "I read up on you while you were out. You're a tech, right? And you're fluent in a significant number of languages as well. That's going to come in handy."

Carth searched her face as he spoke, looking for any sign of interest. By now, most people would be asking him questions, demanding answers, but all he got was silent indifference. _Great, she's going to be difficult._

Dropping the forced enthusiasm, Carth ran a hand haphazardly through his hair and tried to make her understand. "Look, I'll level with you. The Republic isn't going to come in and rescue us. We'll have to escape Taris on our own, but first we need to find Bastila."

"Bastila?" Rhyska frowned. _Sounds familiar. Important somehow…_ "Was she on the Endar Spire?"

He shot her a look of exasperation. "I'm beginning to wonder if that smack to the head affected your short term memory. Bastila led the Jedi strike team that killed Darth Revan, Malak's Sith Master. She's the key to winning this war."

Rhyska tried to look interested and even attempted an encouraging nod while Carth prattled on, but the muscles in her neck seized up, causing her face to tighten in pain. She reached up and worked her fingertips along the skin of her neck, massaging gently.

She could feel the familiar aches and pains of newly regenerated tissue all over her body. Slowly exhaling, she deduced that the kolto had taken care of most of the damage. Her body would have to heal the rest.

After a quick look at Carth who prattled on about why she ought to help him out, she shifted her attention back to her own needs. The desire to shower was overwhelming. _It would just figure. I'm drafted into this stupid war, had to escape a burning ship, suffered through multiple head traumas, and now I'm forced to go trudging through the streets of Taris for the Sith's most wanted…Right._

"I don't know how, but the Sith found out Bastila was on the Endar Spire. They ambushed us in orbit," Carth explained. "I guided our escape pod on the same trajectory as Bastila's. With any luck, she'll be somewhere nearby."

He looked at her so expectantly that Rhyska was fairly certain that hearing the word _No_ might actually cause him to have some form of a breakdown. So she pushed back her blanket and swung her legs off of the bed to face him.

The floor was freezing cold, but the shivers racing up her spine served the simple purpose of waking her up completely. She let out a deep breath before asking, "How can one person, even a Jedi, be so important?"

Carth shook his head in frustration. "Can you imagine having the ability to influence entire armies? To inspire your allies with confidence or to extinguish your enemy's will to fight? Bastila can literally turn the tide of a battle with the Force. The Jedi call her gift Battle Meditation. I don't think I have to explain how vital that ability is to the Republic."

"If she can do all that, then she can probably look after herself."

"The Sith I'm talking about aren't the turncoat soldiers that left the Republic after the Mandalorian Wars. I'm talking about Dark Jedi. Malak doesn't want Bastila dead. He wants her for her battle meditation."

Rhyska closed her eyes as the pounding in her head suddenly increased. This conversation was not doing her any good. She rubbed her temples as he continued on persuasively, "Look, if we're really careful and stay low key, we should be able to move about without attracting any unwanted attention. They won't care about a couple of stranded mercenaries. But we need her. The Republic needs her and she needs us."

As he waited patiently for her to speak, Rhyska knew that he was aware that she wasn't hot on the idea of finding Bastila, especially if everyone else in the galaxy wanted a piece of the supposed savior of the galaxy. _Sheesh, talk about putting all your eggs in the same basket!_

She could also tell that he was not the kind of guy who asked for help. Rhyska got the feeling he was of the _Do It or Die Trying _variety. She had seen his kind accidentally space themselves or decompress messily by accident, all because they'd rather die than ask for help. But here he was, asking…

She let a pent up sigh escape her lips as she looked up and rolled her eyes. "If it means getting off this planet, I suppose I can help you find Bastila."

Carth flashed her a relieved smile. "Great, we're going to need to work together to survive this mess. Now, while you were out I scouted around the complex and I heard some people talking. They said a couple of escape pods crashed into the Under City. Much as I'd love to start there, I've heard that it can be pretty dangerous and we aren't quite prepared for that yet."

Rhyska set the cup of water down and stood up. Stretching unhappily cramped muscles, she looked around the apartment. "Where's the refresher? I want to get cleaned up. The sooner we start looking for Bastila, the sooner we find her and get off this rock."

He pointed to a door across the room from her bed. "We'll use this place as our base of operations."

Rhyska walked across the room and checked out the less than sanitary looking refresher and wondered just how long it would take to clean before she'd get a chance to shower. Then she caught the part of the conversation that clearly had Carth spooked. "We definitely want to avoid detection. A patrol came through the complex earlier and I overheard them say that a few dark Jedi arrived on Taris. Some of the things I've heard about their interrogation techniques..."

Carth shuddered. "Bad enough that they can snap your necks from a distance, apparently these Jedi can also strip a person of their memories, their very identities."

Standing in the doorway of the refresher, she slowly turned to Carth and gave him a dubious look. "Man, you are one up-beat kind of guy."

The hero of the Republic had the grace to look a little sheepish at her remark. Truth or not, he was laying the fear and guilty thing pretty thick considering she had already agreed to help.

Uninterested in furthering _that_ conversation, she brought up a more important issue. "Say, there isn't something else I could wear around here, is there?"

Carth looked a little lost for a moment, but then he walked to a foot locker by the window. He pulled out a light combat suit and brought it to her. "Pretty sure this will work for you."

"I figure as long as we don't do anything stupid or call any unnecessary attention to ourselves, we should be in the clear. After all, they're looking for Bastila, not a couple of grunts like us," Carth said encouragingly. "All right, soldier! Do your thing so we can get a move on!"

Holding the combat suit close, Rhyska looked at him evenly and said, "Great! Now how about you back away from the refresher? It's not you, it's me. My showers are private sessions and I'm not really looking for an audience."

Carth looked ready to interject a comment so she held a hand up to stop him. "Yes, I realize that you're all gung ho about finding Bastila. Hell, I'm already on board with your plan so you can stop trying to pitch me," she assured him. "Just sit back and chill, Flyboy, 'cause I'm not going anywhere until I've cleaned up."

The expression on Carth's face was both flustered and irritated, the former for getting ahead of himself and the latter at Rhyska for throwing it in his face. Carth mumbled something Rhyska couldn't hear before walking away. Rhyska shook her head and vaguely wondered what was wrong with him before grimacing as she got into the refresher.

--

Two hours later Rhyska was scrubbed clean and wearing the scavenged combat armor. The black form fitting suit with a sand colored battle vest fit her well enough, but it wasn't what Rhyska would have called stylish by any stretch of the imagination.

Still, it was what she had and she would make do until she had enough credits for an upgrade and she had a gut feeling that looking for Bastila would require a great many upgrades. On the plus side, she had escaped the Endar Spire wearing her lucky black boots and that was something.

When she had emerged from the refresher, Carth looked thoroughly annoyed. Apparently he was under the impression that she'd just hop in and out of the refresher. He was less than happy about the long wait. Rhyska just smiled brightly at him as she buckled her utility belt. She took a moment to recheck her stealth unit, boot knife, and the contents of her grenade pouch before pulling her hair back into a pony tail. Picking up her vibroblade she hooked it to her utility belt and asked, "What are you sitting around for? Let's blaze!"

As they stepped out into the hallway, Carth exclaimed, "Just what the hell were you doing in there that took two flaming hours?"

"Do you really wanna know?" Rhyska asked suggestively.

Carth's eyebrows rose a good few inches and he turned a red bright enough to rival his orange jacket. "I didn't mean it like that. I know what you were doing in there, but two hours? Is there even any hot water left?"

Rhyska laughed at him as she proceeded down the hall. "You look so scandalized! I cleaned out the refresher, you nit!" Suddenly, her laughter stopped short and she asked suspiciously with a sniff or two, "Have you even taken a shower since we've been here?"

Carth said defensively, "Of course I have!"

"Ewww! You didn't even bother cleaning it first?" Rhyska cried. "You could have at least cleaned it out before I woke up!"

Making a face at her, he picked up his pace. "It wasn't high on my list of priorities."

"Well, it should have been," Rhyska exclaimed. "I mean, we could be stuck on this floaty little ball of mud for awhile. I, for one, do not want to die simply because someone was too lazy to kill the life forms being spawned in the crud encrusted refresher!"

"Now just a minute, sister…"

Carth stopped abruptly as a man dressed in a Sith uniform hollered down the hallway, "All right, you alien scum get up against the wall! This is a raid!"

Rhyska gripped her vibroblade as she scanned the scene in front of her. The Sith trooper had his back to them and was harassing two Duros, an Ithorian, and a Twi'lek. The Sith was all by himself except for two battle droids and so far, he seemed to be oblivious of their presence.

As she glanced at Carth next to her, he gave her a stern look that said quite clearly, _Do not cause a scene! _However, she couldn't help but notice that his hand hovered right over his blaster, so at the very least he was preparing himself for a worst case scenario. Eventually, the Sith was going to turn around. Rhyska slipped her hand into her grenade pouch and felt around for a small round frag grenade as the scene played out before her.

One of the Duros exclaimed, "_There was a patrol here yesterday and they found nothing! When are you Sith going to leave us alone_?"

Blaster fire answered his question and he fell down dead in a heap on the floor.

The Sith trooper hissed, "That's what happens to smart mouthed aliens when I lose my temper! I want everyone up against the wall, now!"

That was the moment the Sith trooper noticed the nervous Twi'lek's eyes flicking back and forth between him and something behind him. Turning around, the trooper finally became aware of the tall man with messy auburn hair and the dark haired woman just behind him, who waved an awkward hello.

The Sith trooper pointed at them. "What area bunch of Humans doing here? Intelligence said this compound was a hideout for aliens." For a moment he seemed confused, like the thought of Humans living in the same building with aliens was inconceivable.

_Then again, the Sith only accept Humans into their rank,_ Rhyska mused.

The Sith's eyes narrowed and he snarled, "They're Republic fugitives! Attack!"

Carth took that as his cue and pulled his blaster from his holster and began firing at the battle droids and the trooper.

Rhyska tossed a frag bomb at the Sith, whose eyes grew wide as she said, "Catch!" She quickly pivoted and tackled Carth to the ground. The aliens around them followed suit as the grenade exploded, taking out the trooper and setting off the battle droids in an explosion of light, sound, and metal fragments.

Carth was surprised, he was taller than Rhyska by a good half foot, but she still managed to knock the wind out of him. Once again, she was a warm weight against him and Carth wondered if this was going to be one of those strange re-occurrences.

He got up slowly to survey the damage and she crawled over to one of the now defunct battle droids.

"What part of low profile did you not get?!" Carth exclaimed as he took in the carnage before him. Pointing to the shredded and very deceased Sith, he hissed incredulously, "I mean, look at this mess!"

The remaining Duros ignored Carth's exclamations and stood over his friend and the now dead Sith. _"Poor Ixgil, if only he had kept quiet. Now he is dead_."

He shook his big blue head sadly and then focused his large eyes on Rhyska, his lips curving into a grim smile, "_Lucky for us that you stepped into the fray, Human. My thanks._"

Rhyska smiled sheepishly and nodded at him, from the corner of her eye she watched as Carth continued to have a mild panic attack while the Duros spoke to her. _"Hopefully, this will be the last time the Sith bother us."_

Rhyska gestured to the Sith and asked, "Don't you think someone will come searching for their patrol?"

The Duros waved off the corpse. "_I will move him so that it looks like he was killed elsewhere. It could buy us some time, maybe even get them to bother someone else for awhile_."

"Excellent!" Rhyska grinned at the Duros and quickly searched though deceased trooper's belongings. "Gimme a second and then I'll leave you to it."

"What did he just say?" Carth looked from her to the Duros and back again, still confused and more than a little panicked. "And what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Flyboy?" Rhyska said without bothering to hide the sarcasm. "I'm seeing if he's got anything worth taking."

"How can you loot the dead?" Carth asked indignantly.

"How can you not?" she retorted. "He's dead. It's not like he'll be spending money or tossing any more grenades around."

"The only one tossing around grenades is you," Carth hissed. "Grenades and the phrase _Low Profile_ are mutually exclusive. They don't go together! And look at this mess! What the hell are we going to do about this?"

After scavenging a few credits and a blaster off of the dead Sith, she pried some loose parts from the droids. Standing, she poked Carth in the chest with a recovered blaster. Carth gripped the blaster by the barrel and Rhyska answered, "Nothing." Letting go of the blaster, she turned and walked away.

"Nothing?" Carth holstered the extra blaster as he strode up next to her. "We can't leave things like that!"

"Sure we can. My new friend--uh…well, he didn't mention his name--but he'll be cleaning it up," Rhyska said with a wave of her hand.

As she continued on down the hallway, she noticed that the alien inhabitants of the apartment complex seemed to be avoiding them. Of course, as Carth pointed out, she did just blow someone up. Not exactly grounds for wanting to meet your new neighbor, but no one was going to report them to the Sith either. They didn't want the Sith around anymore than Carth did.

"Did he now?"

"Yeah," Rhyska affirmed as she walked at a comfortable pace. "The droids are scrapped parts, completely of no consequence. His friend was killed by that Sith trooper, I'm sure he's not the first alien that's bit the dust since the Sith arrived, so no worries there. The trooper is really the only one he needs to worry about. And if you really think about it, it's probably more convenient that he's in a couple of pieces. The little guy can stuff him in a foot locker and tote him around with no one the wiser. As for the mess, the cleaning droids can clean and disinfect the floors, no problems. I honestly don't know what you're so worried about."

Stopping in mid-stride, Carth stared at her in horror.

Rhyska stopped a few steps ahead of him and frowned at his look. "What? What's with the look?"

"Do you hear yourself?" Carth asked aghast.

"I hear myself just fine. Seriously, what's your problem?"

"My problem?" Carth sputtered. "How can you act so cavalier about all of that? I find it a little disturbing that you just seem to have all the angles figured out—completely wrong by the way! Foot locker?!"

Rhyska laughed at him and put a finger to her lips. "Shush, Mr. Low Profile. Someone might hear you."

Carth shook his head, shocked and utterly disgusted by her actions. At the other end of the hall he spotted a Twi'lek merchant and said brusquely, "I'm going to talk to that merchant over there. I'll be right back."

The look he gave Rhyska was the hard stare that a parent might give an errant child. The message he inferred quite clear, _Don't move from this spot and don't touch anything!_

Rhyska muttered a not so quiet, "Whatever!" as he walked away causing him to look back at her.

Matching her maturity level, Carth grumbled loudly about being stranded on backwater planets with psychotic recruits.

Rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest, Rhyska leaned against the wall of the corridor and watched Carth attempt to get information from the bright green Twi'lek.

She studied him as he talked to the merchant, gaging how well he transitioned from soldier to would-be operative. If their body language was any indication, the conversation was going absolutely nowhere.

Carth's stance was that of a career soldier. Despite his best effort, he was unable to keep his years of military training from affecting the tone of his voice, the expressions on his face, and his mannerisms while he spoke.

Everything about him pretty much screamed military. Not the image a person wanted to project on a recently conquered world, especially if they wanted answers.

Carth was unconsciously sending out signals that put the merchant instantly on guard. They were too far away for her to make out what was being said, but the suspicious looks the Twi'lek was directing at Carth wasn't inspiring her any. Bribery was the only surefire way to get him to talk.

She smirked, even if he was willing to grease the wheels with a few credits, Rhyska was pretty sure that Carth didn't have enough on him to satisfy the merchant.

Closing her eyes, she sighed. They were broke, friendless, surrounded by Sith, and ill equipped to deal with the situation at hand. _But it was _okay_, because Carth had been in worse spots…Yeah, right._ He couldn't even lie well.

Rhyska shook her head and chuckled. She honestly didn't know why she was still standing here. Agreeing to help him wasn't just completely stupid. It was detrimental to her health.

Flicking her gaze back to where Carth was, she found him bound and determined to get something out of the conversation with the merchant. She suspected that he was bothering the Twi'lek on purpose so that he wouldn't have to deal with her.

Her suspicion was confirmed when he looked back to check on her and a disgruntled expression flitted across his face. He quickly turned back and continued pestering the Twi'lek. _Great,_ she thought to herself. _If he's got problems with me now, just wait till he really gets to know me later. That man is gonna freak!_

One thing had become glaringly clear. She'd have to be the one to find the information they were looking for because Carth really sucked at it. She could hardly blame him for being an upstanding Republic citizen, but he really had no idea how to read people or blend in. The blazing flight jacket wasn't exactly a help, either. It was like a great big orange target. _Takes a very secure man to wear a jacket like that,_ she mused to herself. _But he's not all bad. At least he can fight—and fly._

It was one of the few reasons she hadn't turned on her heel and walked out the door when he was trying to persuade her to help him. She only had basic flying skills, nothing to brag about.

He claimed to be a crack pilot. If _crack_ meant, _able to outmaneuver destroyers and little gunships_, then she supposed that meant they needed each other--for the moment.

He said the Republic wasn't going to bail them out. She wondered if he really understood what it was going to take to get off this planet. For her it meant business as usual. For him it would mean doing a lot of things he would find unsavory at the best of times. "The man with a plan," she murmured under her breath.

If he was to be believed, all they had to do was find Bastila, steal a ship, break though the Sith blockade, and fly back into Republic space without getting blown to bits. Piece of cake…

Rhyska shook her head and expelled a long suffering sigh. "We are going to die."

Thoroughly depressed, she scanned the doors across from her and then flicked her gaze to where Carth was. Flyboy was still working the merchant and going no where fast. If she was careful, she could score a quick credit with Carth none the wiser.

Moving slowly, she pulled her security spike from her silver cuff and began splicing the door across from her. Upon entry, Rhyska noted that the apartment was much cleaner than the place she was staying in. Of course, she was freeloading at an abandoned pad, so she supposed she really shouldn't complain. _Free was free._ However, it was slightly disturbing to note that the floor was light shade of blue. Not icky brown. _Ewww!! _

Poking around a bit, she found a leather bag with a few credits in it and a medpack. Placing the bag back where she found it, she was making her way towards the door when a woman in a turquoise wrap-dress and tall black boots walked in from an adjoining room. She was shrugging into a warm looking, dark blue sweater when she saw Rhyska.

At first, she looked surprised and somewhat scared to find a visitor in her living space, but then she pulled out a vibroknife from a concealed sheath strapped to her back and proceeded to look very pissed.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?" the woman demanded. She looked to be in her late twenties, with brown hair and gray eyes. She also seemed to have some skill with a vibroknife, if her grip and stance were any indication.

Rhyska smiled awkwardly. "Sorry. I was just investigating the area."

"Investigating the area?" The woman repeated dubiously. "Do I look like I was born yesterday?"

Rhyska shook her head. "Not really."

After a moment of awkward silence, Rhyska grudgingly admitted defeat and set the stolen medpack and credits on a nearby table. "Alright, I was robbing you. Life's kind of crappy at the moment and—well, I suffered a moment of weakness. I'm sorry."

The woman glared long and hard at Rhyska who shrugged and did her best to look contrite.

It seemed to have the desired effect because the woman re-sheathed her vibroknife.

"There are plenty of thieves running around this complex, but at least you're polite. And I sense you're not a liar. What's your name?"

"My name's Rhyska. Rhyska Nevar. I just moved in a couple doors down."

"My name is Dia," she said as she sat down at the table. "Just so you know, most everyone's usually at work by now. I'm only here because I can't leave."

_The one apartment I rob is the only one that's occupied...Figures!_

As if reading her thoughts, Dia grinned and gestured to an empty chair at the table. "So you moved into that old dump? I thought the land lord was going to renovate before leasing it out again."

"If by renovate you mean removed the larger, man sized rodents, then yes. I guess they did," Rhyska joked as she took the offered seat across from Dia.

Dia's face quirked into a small smile. "Man sized rodent, hmmm. Yes, that is an excellent description of Holdan."

Rhyska frowned and asked curiously, "Holdan? Who's that? If you don't mind my asking."

Dia's eyes narrowed as she huffed, "Just a runner for Davik Kang. Grabby fellow, can't keep his hands to himself. He's the reason I'm stuck here."

"Really?"

"I work the tables at Javyar's in the Lower City. Holdan's a good tipper, but like I said, he's all hands. Tried getting fresh with me, but all he got was a nasty scar from my vibroknife."

Dia sighed. "Seemed like a good idea at the time, but in hindsight, it was probably a little extreme. Should've just slapped the little prick silly."

Curiosity piqued, Rhyska pressed just a little more. "What do you mean?"

Standing up abruptly, Dia tried dismissing the subject. "I—I don't want to talk about it. I'm in enough trouble already. Besides, I don't even know you."

Rhyska wheedled, "Oh, come on. You can trust me." Standing up, she looked Dia in the eye and said, "Maybe I can help."

The offer to help threw Dia off. The woman in front of her was slightly shorter, but looked capable enough. Something in the thief's brown eyes seemed to radiate a kind of compelling warmth.

Before Dia knew it, the words just slipped right out of her. "Well, you seem like an all right sort. Basically, I embarrassed the little huttslug in front of his friends so the bantha turd went and put a bounty on my head."

Rhyska eyes grew wide as she exclaimed, "That's pretty harsh! Anything I can do to help?"

Dia shook her head. "I doubt it. Holdan works for the local crime lord. No one wants to cross Davik or any of his men. This is between me and Holdan."

Rhyska pursed her lips, reviewing what she had learned thus far. _"Davik, Crime lord. Holdan, Exchange thug. Crime lords employ thugs to run money, drugs, guns, and etcetera. Running would require transport. Fast transport. Hmmm... Davik."_ There were distinct possibilities emerging. Coming back to the present Rhyska said, "Maybe I could speak to Holdan for you."

For a moment all Dia could do was stare. "Speak to him? I suppose you could try, but it probably won't do any good. Getting away with murder is just one of the fringe benefits of being Davik Kang's lackey. They're all used to getting what they want. Still, I appreciate the offer. You're the first and probably the last."

"Oh, I don't know. I'm pretty persuasive when I want to be and I have a feeling that I'll be swinging by the Javyar's eventually. When I do, Holdan and I will have a little chat," Rhyska said brightly.

"In that case, keep what you took. Consider it payment for services to be rendered."

"Sweet!" Rhyska scooped up her wages with a grin. "Leave everything to me. You'll be out and about soon enough."

Pulling her sweater closed and wrapping her arms around herself Dia stared at her strange new neighbor.

"You certainly sound sure of yourself," Dia said with a shake of her head. Rhyska waved farewell and walked out of the apartment, leaving Dia reeling and just a little bit confused.

Dia hadn't the faintest idea why she acted as she did. That woman broke into her apartment, conned her story out of her, and strangest of all, offered to help her. There was something about her and the way she said she'd help. Dia was almost certain she'd meant it.

Looking out her window, Dia smiled. The thought that she might actually get to see the world beyond the glass once more made her happier than she could remember. That and the thought that a woman shorter than her might hand Holdan back his ass. For Dia, both thoughts were equally entertaining.

--

Rhyska left Dia's apartment, wondering how long it would take to track down Bastila, the great Jedi Wonder. As she looked down the hall towards the merchant, she then wondered how long it would take to track down Flyboy Onasi, who was nowhere to be seen.

"Blast!"

She nodded to the Twi'lek merchant and questioned him on the whereabouts of her orange clad friend. The Twi'lek, who went by the name of Larrim, grinned and directed her towards the other end of the complex where Rhyska spied a very flustered Carth trying desperately to escape an old man who seemed to have taken quite a shine to him.

Creeping up slowly and soundlessly behind Carth, she walked into the conversation where the old man seemed to be imparting some pearls of wisdom. "Listen sonny! I know what I'm talkin' about. Only place in town you need to go is the can-tee-na! I'm tellin' ya. Nothin' like a little Tarisian Ale to make the day all better."

Winking conspiratorially at Carth, the old man informed him, "They have gen-u-wine Twi'lek dancers! 'Nuff to make an old man keel over, if you know what I mean. Heartbreakers, those girls are! Just you tell 'em old Kadir sent ya. Trust me on this, I've been around and there ain't no better can-tee-na! Sides, you look like you could use a little bit 'o relaxation! I'm sure there's a girl or two in there that ken help you loosen up some."

Looking around desperately, he slowly backed away from old Kadir. "No really, I have to find my friend before I can make it to the cantina and, although I appreciate the advice, Kadir-- I _really_ don't need help in that department," Carth insisted.

"Nonsense, sometimes a man's just gotta do what a man's gotta do," Kadir stated. "There ain't no better place to do that than the can-tee-na!"

"Yeah Carth, no better place than the can-tee-na," Rhyska chimed in with a grin. Stepping in beside a very shocked Carth, she introduced herself, "Hi, Kadir is it? I'm Rhyska. So glad to meet you! Even gladder you found my Flyboy here."

With an arched brow and a smile curving her lips she asked, "Out of curiosity, what is it exactly that my friend here has to do, because, you know—all men do it?"

"Well, Carth! Yer holdin' out on me! She's a right pretty picture. Pretty as those little Twi'leks in the can-tee-na," Kadir chided at the mortified Carth.

Looking back at Rhyska, the old man obiliged her request. "Well, I was just suggestin' he visit the can-tee-na. Did you know yer boy's wound tighter than an Alderaanian silk spool?"

"Really," drawled Rhyska.

Kadir nodded sagely. "If'n you know what's best for ya, you should help him fix that. That kind a tension can set a man back a few years."

"Look at the time!" Grabbing Rhyska by the wrist, Carth pulled her back towards the apartment exit and said, "Gotta go!"

Rhyska waved at Kadir as Carth made retreated hastily, "See ya in the can-tee-na, Kadir!"

Kadir blinked a couple of times and said good-naturedly, "Have fun! Oh, and mind the floor! I just cleaned that."

He watched them until they disappeared from view. Kadir shook his head. "Youth is wasted on the young! If'n I were his age…Woo hoo! If'n I were his age… All the girls would have to watch out!"

Chuckling to himself, Kadir went about his business, whistling a tune he'd heard a long time ago from the can-tee-na.

* * *

**Author Note:** Hope you enjoyed my chappie. Feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing.


	3. The Cantina

**Disclaimer: **I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**The Cantina

* * *

**

Rhyska laughed all the way out into the city walkway. Carth's eyes darted about nervously, his face still a flaming red color as he hissed, "Just shut up already!" 

Uncaring of the stares drawn by her near-hysterical laughter, Rhyska sat against the walkway wall and just laughed.

Carth looked so miserably and terribly embarrassed, but what little pity she felt was over shadowed by the memory of a very dirty old man telling Carth, in no uncertain terms, that he needed to go out and get laid. Priceless!

For a while there, Carth was worried that her hysterics would draw a crowd and then the shavit would hit the fan. Strangely enough, no one really cared. He should have found some small measure of relief in that, but in an odd sort of way he didn't. It was less than comforting to know that he was in a city that didn't bat an eye at much of anything. Not complete humiliation and earlier today, not even death. No one cared and this was before the Sith even conquered Taris. He walked over to Rhyska who was still suffering from fits of laughter so hard, she was crying. Leaning on the wall next to her, Carth shook his head until the embarrassment passed and there was nothing but the sound of people rushing through their daily lives. A sea of people patrolled by the odd Sith walking by without so much as a glance in their direction.

Carth let the sounds of the city fill his head and above all the noise, there was the clear ringing of laughter from the girl next to him. Even with all the things they were soon to face, a small part of him was surprised that she could still laugh. He wondered if she'd still laugh like that later. It had been years since he'd laughed without a care in the world and that was long before he'd fought in any wars, when life was still good. Rhyska's laughter made him think of better times and then they made him think he was never speaking to Kadir, for any reason, so long as they were stuck on Taris…ever.

When her laughter had subsided into manageable giggles, he asked, "Are you finished already?"

Rhyska looked at him, eyes sparkling with warmth and light. Carth was struck with how different from the scavenging, sarcastic, smart mouthed little brat she was before. It was amazing to see so many sides of a person in just the span of a few hours. He was certain that she was all those things he thought and more, but she was also this girl whose smile transformed her pretty face into something so much more enchanting with the light of Taris' sun setting her aglow. For a brief moment in time, Taris didn't seem so bad.

And then she spoke…"Carth, for as long as I live any time the going gets dull I am going to remember that and laugh."

"Of course you are," Carth said tiredly. "Just promise me one thing."

Rhyska cocked her to the side head and looked at him. "What?"

"You can laugh," Carth agreed. "But no one else will _ever_ know about that conversation! No one! Ever!"

Rhyska threw back her head and laughed some more. Carth finally gave up and chuckled along with her. He supposed that had it happened to someone else, he might be laughing just as hard. Unfortunately, it had happened to him. Rhyska punched him lightly on the arm, "You're all right, flyboy. Come on, let's go to the can-tee-na!"

"Cute," Carth growled half heartedly.

"Don't worry, Onasi," Rhyska stood and looked around. "Your secret is safe with me. Now, did Kadir mention where this cantina was?"

"Across the quad," Carth thumbed a direction across the wide expanse of the walkway and stood, happy that they were finally moving. "Just past a supply shop too, so that might come in handy."

"Sure, sure." Rhyska ran ahead of him and hollered, "Onwards to the can-tee-na!"

"Shut up already!" was Carth's only response.

---------------

They were more than half way across the quad when Rhyska saw the pod. She stopped in her tracks and surveyed the wreckage. She wasn't the only one looking. All around her people stared at it with morbid fascination. Before curiosity got the better of her, Carth put an arm around her shoulder and guided her away from crash site. "We can't go taking a closer look at it, no need to call attention to ourselves needlessly like that."

"Did you see that?" Rhyska asked soberly. "Right on the edge of the quad! Another foot or so and they'd have been scraping us out of that pod from the Under City!"

"Yeah," Carth nodded. "Hell of a ride down, too."

Rhyska took in the scene with wide eyes. "I take it back, Onasi. You're not all right, you're pretty damn good!"

Her honest compliment somewhat salved the embarrassment of earlier and then she clapped him on the back. "When we get to the can-tee-na your drinks are on me, wouldn't want you to unspool or anything."

Carth shot her a dirty look and walked off.

"What?" Rhyska called out to him. "Oh, come on! Don't tell me you can't take a joke! Seriously! You need to lighten up. I meant what I said about that drink!"

Carth disappeared around a corner and Rhyska ran to catch up with him. Turning the corner, she saw a large shop called the Equipment Emporium. _"Must be why Kadir knows it's here. It's hard to miss."_

Carth was already inside looking at the merchandise. He seemed to be interested in what looked to be an upgrade in body armor. She couldn't blame him. He was basically wearing street clothes. Nothing he wore at the moment was going to keep some well placed shots or blades from ending him permanently. He also happened to look like he didn't have two credits to rub together.

Before she could ask him how much he had on him she was approached by a forty something woman with skin the color of dark caffa. Lively gold eyes looked back at her as she broke into what Rhyska could only assume was her store greeting. "Hello and welcome to the Equipment Emporium! I am Kebla Yurt, the proprietor of this fine establishment. Was there something special I could help you find today? Any particular supplies I could get you? I have the best selection in all of Upper Taris. Whatever you want, I've got."

Her exuberant pitch became less than thrilled when she added, "Well, mostly."

"Mostly?" Carth asked coming to stand along side Rhyska. "What do you mean by that?"

Kebla's expression soured as she pursed her lips and shifted her stance. "Well, the Sith confiscated all of my heavy weapons. They also impounded my ships and my swoop bikes, but I still have the best selection if you're interested."

Rhyska shrugged at Carth who looked back at Kebla and said, "Let's see what you've got."

Kebla smiled, the sound of credits clinking in her ear. "Okay, but just so you know the prices on the items are final. I don't do bargaining and this isn't a swap meet. I only deal in top notch stuff!"

"Sure," Rhyska nodded. In the end, Rhyska ended up selling more stuff than she actually bought. Getting rid of some non essentials, she was able to purchase four more frag grenades and just because it sounded ridiculously cool, a permacrete detonator. She wasn't entirely sure why she bought it, but with Carth looking at her like she was crazy, it was very nearly worth it for that much alone. The best part was she still had enough money for booze at the cantina! After all, she did promise Kadir.

On the way to the cantina Rhyska noticed that Carth wore a far away expression on his face. Hurrying to move up along side him she nudged his arm, "Hey, Carth?"

Her touch snapped him out of his reverie. "Yeah? What's on your mind?"

"I'd like to know more about you, Carth," Rhyska replied. "If you don't mind."

Carth looked mildly surprised as he answered, "Not much to tell. I'm a pilot for the fleet, mostly. I enlisted the first chance I got. I flew for the Republic for years in pretty much everything you can imagine. I fought in the Mandalorian Wars before this mess started and I've seen a lot of action. Even so, I wasn't quite prepared for the carnage the Sith unleashed. The Mandalorians were pretty bad, but they were never senseless in their brutality. In a weird sort of way, they were pretty up front about why they were fighting and for doing the things they did. There isn't much rhyme or reason behind Malak's motives. He just destroys everything in his path."

The silence that followed lingered in the air. Looking over at Carth, Rhyska could tell that he was revisiting some pretty awful memories. She almost wished she hadn't asked him. He seemed a pretty tetchy sort. She was about to change the subject when he suddenly spoke, "Telos was one of the first worlds to suffer an orbital bombardment by Malak's fleet. There wasn't a thing the Republic forces could do to stop them. We got there too late."

Rhyska looked at him sadly and realized something. "You're talking like it's your fault, like you failed somehow."

Carth stopped walking and looked at her. "I didn't fail. It wasn't my fault. I did everything I could. I followed my orders, did my duty. I did everything expected of me. It shouldn't mean I failed them," He insisted more to himself than to her.

"Them?" Rhyska pressed, "You mean the people of your homeworld?"

"Yeah…Well, no. That's not what I meant. I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I…uh… didn't mean…" Carth avoided her gaze and shook his head. "Look, I don't really talk about the things that happened back then---ever, if I can help it. I don't mean to be rude. I'm sure you mean well and all, but how about we just keep our minds focused on the task at hand."

Without another word, he left her standing there as he headed towards the cantina. Rhyska watched him for a moment before remarking out loud, "Now there goes a man who needs to _seriously_ get wasted at least once before we leave this rock!"

Rhyska was glad she had talked Kebla into holding her purchases for her. She really didn't want to carry any extra baggage with her into the cantina. Carth walked casually by a Sith trooper standing guard in front of the Cantina doors. He wore the look of a man looking forward to number of strong drinks. Close on his heels, Rhyska entered an environment more familiar to her than the space cruiser she had been living on the last few months. The lingering scent of smoke, alcohol, and mixed pheromones greeted her at the door, enveloping her and soaking into her very pores. Music from a live band echoed from a space to the back of the cantina, the melody floating from room to room.

Not seeing, not hearing, and certainly not waiting, Carth headed straight for the bar while she meandered slowly through the first room. A tired, old man sat in a chair at an empty pazaak table and played a solitary game with himself. Across the room from him was a younger, devilish looking man who was being fawned on by a girl with frosty, pale features. She watched his every move with naïve adoration. He, like the old man, was setting his pazaak cards down for a game. As Rhyska walked by she heard the girl say excitedly, "No one is better than you are, Niklos!"

"You can say that again, sweetness!" was the husky reply. Inane giggling erupted from the girl as Rhyska summed up the younger man, _"Cardshark."_ Eyes flicking back to the old man, she thought, _"Old, retired Cardshark."_

The old man looked longingly at the young pazaak player and the girl before sighing. It was clear to Rhyska that he was remembering younger, stupider, richer days. Moving further into the cantina, she saw Carth leaning against the bar and consuming what looked to be a tall glass of ale. _"Idiot!"_ Rhyska chided mentally as she came up right beside him and ordered a Viridian Frost.

"You should slow down on the ale," Rhyska warned him before savoring her icy green concoction.

"What are you? My mother?" Carth spat. "I can hold my drink!"

"Yeah, sure you can," Rhyska eyed him dubiously.

"Don't mess with me!" Carth glared at her as he set down the empty glass. "I'm just not in the mood for your antics right now."

"Whatever you say, flyboy," Rhyska said sourly. "If you're going to stand here and drink yourself into oblivion hold my vibroblade and be useful."

"Don't tell me about being useful!" The bartender slapped another tall glass of ale in front of Carth distracting him from completing his sentence.

Looking over at Rhyska, the bartender asked in hushed tones, "Is your boyfriend one of those angry drunks? If he is, he's gonna have to leave. There's already enough Sith crawling all over the place, I don't want them storming my bar cause your friend wants to start some shavit."

Chewing on her bottom lip, she watched as Carth continued to down the rest of his ale. She tossed the bartender a few credits and said, "Whatever my friend's having and keep 'em coming. Couple more glasses and he'll be too ill coordinated to do any damage. Keep him here if you can."

The bartender smiled greedily as he scooped up the credits. "You got it, babe. Couple more glasses of our famous Tarisian Ale and he won't know what hit him!"

As Rhyska and the bartender came to an understanding, they both glanced at Carth.

"See," Carth said holding up a very tall, very empty glass. "I can hold my drink."

Rhyska smiled, "You sure can!" The bartender sloshed another tall glass of ale in front of Carth, who promptly began drinking it down. Leaning across the bar Rhyska amended, "Enough drinks to keep him happy, but not so much I have to carry him out of here, kay?" The bartender gave her a nod and wink as she slipped away to check out the cantina attractions.

She found herself in a large room called the dueling room. Some people were disappearing down a hallway leading to an arena. A large Hutt guarded both the door to the arena and the dueling room. Large bulbous eyes flicked back and forth, sweeping across the room. His mass rippled as he hollered at a loser from a previous fight. Multiple screens were attached to the walls of the room, playing back footage from a recent duel. Rhyska noted several heavily armored people standing around, as though waiting for something. _"Well, Carth did say he's looking for information,"_ Rhyska told herself. Of course, being a dueling ring, they weren't going to tell her anything about city events. Still, they might know how a girl could score a few credits.

And as it turned out they did. With the help of a physically fit, whipcord lean, fifty something named Marl, she learned that the Hutt went by the name of Azur and he ran the dueling ring. Currently, there were only five duelists. Death matches were against the law, which was why the squirrelly looking Dead-Eye Duncan remained "dead" last among the duelists.

Gerlon Two-Fingers was number four. Gerlon's weapon of choice was the blaster. Marl confided that the surly Gerlon was called Two-Fingers due to a freak blaster accident that stole away the feeling in three of his fingers. Strangely enough, he still preferred the blaster to anything else in the dueling ring.

The title of number three belonged to "Ice," a pale vibroblade wielding female with sharp features and glacial eyes. Rhyska made the mistake of approaching her first. The conversation was short, if memorable.

"Wait, I know what you're going to say," the tall blonde began. "It's great to see a woman in the dueling ring. Strike a blow for equality. I'm a real credit to my gender. Blah, blah, blah!" Her face twisted into a sneer, "Just save it, okay!"

"I'm just here to take care of business in the dueling ring. For some reason every woman seems to think we should have some sort of bond or something. Well, guess what?" she spat venomously. "We don't!"

"Damn," Rhyska breathed, looking somewhat shocked. "That was cold!"

Tilting her head back and looking down the bridge of her nose she said, "Now you know why they call me Ice."

"_Brrr…"_ Rhyska thought to herself. That was about the same moment that Marl waved her over and explained how things worked in the dueling ring.

Marl held the title for number two. He had been around long before any of the other duelists. For a while, he had held the position of number one, but those had been the days after Bendak Starkiller. In fact, the only one he couldn't beat was Twitch, the crazy Rodian.

Bendak, was the one Rhyska was most intrigued by. Marl said quite jovially, "Oh, yes. Back in the day, death matches were extremely popular. Of course, Bendak would be the only one walking away from those fights. He was unbeatable. He killed so many in the dueling ring, the government of Taris banned death matches. It kind of forced him into retirement after that. Bendak was only ever interested in death matches. He comes by once in a while. Reminiscing about the glory days, I suppose."

Promising Marl she'd be back for a duel, Rhyska had smiled politely and excused herself after that. She worked her way through the cantina in search of where the music was coming from. On the way to the music room, she accidentally bumped into a middle aged Tarisian who hissed at her, "What?! Watch where you step, you scow!"

"Sorry," Rhyska said, not even remotely apologetic.

"Why are you speaking to me? Can't you tell from my clothing that I am of the nobility?" Dismissing her with a wave of his hand he exclaimed, "Get away from me! I can't be seen talking to common rabble! It wouldn't be proper for a man of my standing."

Rhyska turned around slowly. "Scow?" She made a face at the man and walked in the opposite direction to the music room.

On the way, she went to check up on Carth at the bar. Miraculously, he was still standing. He was also flirting with a rather pretty brunette. Tapping him on the shoulder, she asked, "Are we having fun?"

Carth's grin vanished at the sound of her voice and the brunette looked annoyed at Rhyska's interruption. Before Carth could say anything the brunette spoke for him.

"As a matter of fact, we were," she said, emphasizing the _"we."_

"Were you now?" Rhyska arched a brow and looked the brunette over. Her gaze flicked back to Carth. He wasn't drunk, but he wasn't sober either.

"Yeah," the brunette answered. With a disapproving look, she returned Rhyska's once over and said nastily, "Nice outfit! I've seen outcasts in the Under City who dress better than you."

Carth sputtered some of the ale he was drinking. "Uh, Sarna, Rhyska is just a fellow mercenary. We work together. Just waiting out our stay on Taris."

The woman, whose name was apparently Sarna, didn't look any less hostile to know that Rhyska was just a fellow merc. "I suppose that would explain your crap taste in clothes. Tell me, do you wear your gear everywhere you go? What are you - a Mandalorian wannabe or something?"

Rhyska quirked a brow at Sarna and bestowed upon the rude and desperate woman a frigid smile. "Yeah, or something. I'll be in the music room, Carth."

Carth remained awkwardly silent, but nodded that he'd heard. Sarna smiled coyly at him. Carth raised his glass to her but couldn't quite bring it in himself to flirt the way he had before Rhyska dropped by. She was a real mood killer, but Sarna had been quite nasty about it as well. Eventually realizing that she wasn't going to get anywhere with Carth, Sarna wandered off. The bartender looked at Carth and said, "She was an easy score, even for a Sith. Not bad looking either. Why'd you turn her down?"

"To be perfectly honest, it's gonna take more than just a quick screw to get me to unwind," Carth muttered, finishing off his ale.

The bartender laughed and served a nearby patron a drink. "Damn straight, my friend! Here, have another ale."

Carth looked around the room and gazed in the direction of the music room to see if Rhyska had gone there. What he saw sobered him up by a few good notches. She had unzipped the combat suit and vest low enough to glimpse a hint of cleavage and she'd let her hair down. She looked relaxed and a great deal more inviting than she had a moment ago. She was also speaking to a smarmy looking guy who seemed to be gesturing at the band.

The bartender set another glass of ale on the bar in front of him and tapped him on the shoulder when he saw what had caught Carth's attention. "Isn't that the girl you came in here with before?"

"Uh huh," Carth muttered, damn near incoherent. At last count he'd had about 5 glasses of ale. Carth shook his head and winced. Something was wrong with him. Usually, he could take more, but his head was starting to swim.

"She might have come in here with you, but looking like that, she may not be leaving with you if you know what I mean," the bartender pointed out with a knowing look.

Turning to the bartender, Carth grabbed his glass of ale and sputtered, "We're not like that."

"Yeah, I can see that," the bartender said with a chuckle as he pointed to the music room again. Carth turned to find the other guy gone and another in his place. Rhyska was leaning against the wall with a drink in her hand. A dark haired fellow with sallow skin was leaning into her, his face hovering close to hers. They both seemed to be engrossed in a private conversation.

Carth downed the entire glass of ale and said in a slight slur as he headed for the music room, "Scuse me."

Behind him, Carth could hear the bartender laughing_. "It's not like that,"_ he insisted to himself. _"It really isn't! Crazy girls are not a turn on. Never have been, never will be."_

---------------

Rhyska had thought that making a few adjustments to her look might help loosen a few tongues while she wheedled information out of people, but mostly she was just tired of people slamming her sense of style. Not her fault the people who designed combat suits weren't interested with style. They were just a tad bit more concerned with keeping people alive, rather than worrying about whether or not someone could get laid wearing their outfit.

So far she'd caught the eye of a man named Jergen, who had tried to weasel her out of twenty credits.

As she turned back to look at him he smiled at her. She nodded at him as their little conversation resurfaced from her memory.

"Hello there," he began. "I knew the moment I laid eyes on you and your---er-- exotic attire, that you are not originally from Taris. Detained by the quarantine, hmmm? I am Jergen, music aficionado."

His comment about her "exotic" appearance put her right on guard. "Pleased to meet you. My name is Rhyska," she said with as charming a smile as she could manage. She also noted that he was rather ordinary looking. Jergen was about as nondescript as his clothing. He blended easily into the crowds and for all intents and purposes was forgettable. _"Aficionado, my ass. Con artist suited him better."_

"What do you think of the band?" Pointing to the Bith on stage he informed her, "Word on the entertainment circuit is they're on the verge of intergalactic stardom."

"It's different," Rhyska shrugged as her head bopped to the beat. "But I like it."

A waitress weaving in and out of the crowd came by and handed Rhyska a tall pink fizzy concoction and went about her business dropping off other orders. Rhyska looked at the drink in her hand and was about to stop the woman from leaving, but Jergen continued on, oblivious to the waitress's drink mix up. "You look like you have an ear for music. Believe me when I say they are destined for fame. They would have been well on their way too, if not for the Sith occupation. Like everyone else, they're stranded here. Too bad, they were all set to go on tour and everything."

"Really?" Rhyska said before drinking down some of the sweetly fizzed beverage.

"Oh yes!" Jergen exclaimed. "If you like, I can arrange a meeting between you and the band. You could get a signed holodisc."

"_Here we go…Come on buddy, what's your angle?"_ Fixing a look of interest on her face she asked, "And how will you arrange that?"

"For a paltry twenty credits, the Rodian bodyguards let me set meetings up between the band and their adoring fans. How about it? Do you wanna get up close and personal with the soon to be rich and famous?"

"_Ah ha!"_ Smiling, Rhyska wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "Thanks but I'm not interested."

Jergen looked slightly disappointed, "Oh, that's too bad. They really are quite fantastic." His face suddenly brightened as he reapplied his facade. "In any case, enjoy the music then. Should you change your mind…" He left the sentence open as he scanned the room for a new mark and walked away. Rhyska tipped her glass to him and then turned back to watch the band.

Under her breath Rhyska muttered, "Two-bit scamster!"

She looked back at the bar where Carth was and saw him talking to the bartender. Sarna was nowhere in sight. She was just about to call the cantina quits when she noticed a dark haired, pale looking man staring at her. He was leaning against the wall of the music room entry way and she decided, _"Hell, if the man was interested then maybe something would come of it."_

Sauntering over to the man, she asked, "Is this wall space taken?"

He smiled slyly and scooted over a bit. "Not at all. Help yourself."

"Don't mind if I do." She stood next to him and listened to the band.

"I don't think I've seen you in here before," he began. "Course, they don't give us Sith officers much time off from the base to go barhopping."

"You're from the military base?" Rhyska eyed him, slightly surprised. _"Finally a break!"_

"You don't look like one of the Sith."

"Lucky for me, I'm not on duty right now. The uniform goes on later when my shift starts." He smiled at her and offered her his hand. "My name is Yun Genda. Junior Officer, first class with the Sith Occupation force."

Rhyska took the hand he offered with her free one and shook it. "Nice to meet you, I'm Rhyska Nevar."

His fingers lingered on her hand before releasing it. He leaned in a little closer to her and said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm kind of surprised you're talking to me. Most of the locals can't stand the Sith. They haven't been very accommodating and most of them are down right hostile. I've been quite lonely since we arrived."

Inwardly, Rhyska was gagging. Outwardly, she chuckled. "I'm not actually from Taris. I'm just stuck here till the quarantine ends."

Yun's eyes widened. "Oh, you're an off worlder?" He considered her for a moment while she drank down some more of the fizzy drink. "Huh, I figured you'd be even more pissed off being stuck on a foreign planet and all."

Licking her lips, she replied, "Being stuck on Taris isn't so bad, but the locals aren't much fun."

Yun nodded in agreement. "Everyone on this backwater planet is in serious need of an attitude adjustment. Honestly, I don't know how anything gets done with everyone being so negative."

"Yeah, you've got to make the most of what you have and the best of every bad situation."

"Exactly! It's all about attitude! I didn't ask for this assignment, but I try to make the best of it. I could sit here and be depressed or angry about being stuck on an inhospitable slime pit of a world, but no. Here I am, doing my job, keeping my spirits afloat." Yun grinned at her and clinked his glass into hers, promptly downing the rest of his drink.

"Yeah, it helps to blow off some steam once in a while," Rhyska said finishing off her own drink.

"That's true. It's nice to meet someone who understands what I'm going through." Yun smiled at Rhyska and said regretfully, "Unfortunately, I've to get going. I've got a shift up at the base, but I really liked talking with you. There aren't a lot of people I can talk to, especially around here. You know, some of the junior Sith officers are going to throw a party tomorrow night."

He took a deep breath and fidgeted nervously. "I'd really like to see you again. Why don't you drop by the party? If you've got a data pad, I'll mark the address on the city map."

"Sounds good." Handing him her data pad she promised, "I'll be there."

"Don't be late," Yun said excitedly. "We're starting right after our shifts. Most of us won't be going back to the base to lock up our uniforms."

"_Jackpot!"_ Rhyska thought. Yun handed her back her data pad and let his fingers trail along the skin of her hand saying, "I look forward to seeing you."

"Likewise." Rhyska grinned.

Yun walked off and Rhyska watched the band finish their set before deciding to find Carth and go back to the base. Turning to leave, she found herself walking nose first into a moving orange wall.

"Ouch!" Rhyska backed up and rubbed her nose. "Hey, buddy! You make a lousy door!" Looking up, she found Carth looking grimly down at her.

"Oh! Hey, flyboy," Rhyska said cheerily. "I was just about to go looking for you."

"Yeah," Carth drawled, "Right. Who's th'guy?"

"Oh, you're gonna love this!" Rhyska gushed with barely contained excitement.

He set a hand on the wall to steady himself as he listened to her, "Doubt it."

Rhyska leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "He just invited me, and by that I mean us, to a Sith after work party tomorrow night!"

The hair on the back of Carth's neck rose as he felt her warm breath against his skin. Suddenly, his irritation faded and was quickly replaced by something very inconvenient, followed by a burst of adrenaline. The combination of which made him dizzy as hell. He swayed and Rhyska caught him.

"Blast, Carth!" Rhyska wheezed as she tried to steady his solid form. "How much did you have to drink?"

"Ask the bartender," Carth muttered one arm stole its way around her shoulder for support, the other stayed against the wall. "Think he wants to get paid."

"Have you been to the refresher?" Rhyska eyed him worriedly. Her eyes darted towards the taproom where the bartender waved at her with a sly smile. _"Huttslug!"_ she cursed at him mentally.

"Nope," Carth said. "But now that chu mention it, not a bad idea."

Rhyska flagged down a harried looking waitress, "Scuse me, where's the refresher." The busy woman pointed to the back of what looked to be a private bar room. Navigating Carth around the other patrons and tables littering the already small room was no easy feat. Carth was no help at all. In fact, he seemed to be taking a great deal of pleasure being such a lumbering bantha turd that he caused her to bump into an irate young woman who hissed, "Watch what you're doing, you stupid fool! Don't you know who I am?"

Rhyska shook her head and tried to keep Carth standing. "Not the faintest idea."

The girl looked at Rhyska as though she were crazy and then said loud enough for everyone in a ten foot radius to hear, "I am Gana Lavin!"

"How nice for you," Rhyska replied, looking unimpressed with the red haired, blue eyed Queen of Everything.

She narrowed her eyes and pouted before making a nasty comment, "Where did you get those clothes? A trash compactor in the Lower City -- and where are our drinks!"

"What drinks?" Rhyska frowned in confusion. "Lady, I'm not a waitress."

Carth slurred loud enough for the girl to hear, "Careful what chu say to spoiled brat. Maybe, could be trouble."

"Why is the help here so incompetent?" Gana shrieked. Looking straight at Rhyska, she threatened, "One word from daddy and I will have your job!"

"What part of _I'm not a waitress_ do you not understand?" Rhyska hissed. "If I were your waitress I'd avoid you too. You're about as quick as a Gamorrean with the manners to match!"

Her mouth dropped open in indignation, "How dare you speak to me like that!? My father is going to hear about this!"

"Yeah, whatever," Rhyska muttered under her breath as Gana Lavin ran out of the room.

Carth looked at her and said, "Shouldn't have done that."

Rhyska looked at Carth and debated as to whether or not she should just drop him off here and let him crawl the rest of the way to the refresher, but opted for the next best thing, "Shut up!"

After getting Carth to the refresher, Rhyska sat at a nearby table and waited for Carth to emerge. His bar tab rather large and it galled Rhyska to pay it, but the bartender wasn't hearing any of it. _"Hey, I got him back to you before he passed out right? Just like you said. Now about the bill…"_ He was nice enough to give her a free pot of caffa though, though Rhyska doubted that it would do much good now. When Carth found her table, he was greeted by a steaming mug and a very irritated Rhyska, who pushed it into his hands and said, "Drink."

---------------

An hour later, Carth was just a little less drunk, but not by much. He half swaggered, half stumbled out of the cantina because he refused to believe that the ale had affected him as badly as all that.

It was already late. Night had set in on Taris and fewer people walked the streets. Rhyska walked slowly behind Carth with a look of utter irritation. At this rate, it would be morning by the time they reached the apartment. Weaving ahead of her, he was muttering something to her.

"What in space are you going on about?" Rhyska watched him sway. She was pretty impressed with Tarisian Ale. She wasn't fond of it's price, but had to admit it sure packed a wallop.

"Looked purdy cozy wi' that guy," Carth worked out slowly.

"What guy?" Rhyska looked around the empty walkway and noticed that even the Sith trooper guarding the cantina was gone. She figured it was probably time for shift change. "It's just you and me out here, flyboy."

"Not here!" Carth threw over his shoulder. "Music room!"

"Oh, him," Rhyska said with a laugh. "Is that what's got you so worked up?"

"Not worked up!" Carth insisted. Her pivoted towards her too quickly and ended up tripping over his own feet. "Shavit!"

She rushed forward and caught him, laughing, "Don't worry, flyboy. I only plan on going out on one date with him."

"Date?" Carth sputtered as Rhyska steadied him by pulling his arm over her shoulder and bolstered his weight. "Don't even know the guy!"

"Yeah, not so much interested in him as what might be in his apartment," Rhyska said as she tried helping him walk in a semi straight line. "But if it makes you feel better, you can be my chaperone."

"I don't wanna date 'em either," Carth mumbled. Shaking his head, he corrected himself, "Dat thing I jest said, not what I meant."

Rhyska laughed, "What the hell are you talking about? He asked _me_ on a date, you idiot!" Fixing a serious look on her face she continued, "But if you're interested…"

"No!!!" Carth bellowed and then winced. "Oh! My head!"

Rhyska continued laughing at him until they rounded the corner to Kebla Yurt's shop. What she saw there made her pause. Two Rodian bodyguards stood on either side of Gana Lavin who sneered, "You dirty little gutter shrill! I told you! Nobody talks to me like that!"

The two Rodians reached for their holsters and Rhyska reached for hers. She slid her arm down Carth's back to his blaster, letting him fall back to the ground with a thud and a surprised cry.

Dodging the laser blasts from the Rodian's blasted her way she put a clean shot through the closest one's head, right between his large bug eyes. A blaster shot grazed her shoulder, scorching her suit. Aiming both pistols at the remaining Rodian she took him down with a couple of shots to his chest, leaving Gana as the last one standing there with a shocked look on her face, her wide eyes suddenly full of fear.

Rhyska holstered her blaster and moved Carth's blaster into her right hand as she advanced on Gana. Gana moved backwards slowly until her back was against the wall of Kebla Yurt's shop.

"Lay a finger on me," Gana threatened shakily. "And my father will have your head!"

Rhsyka looked at her coldly and placed the tip of her blaster against Gana's forehead. Still hot from the previous shots, an inflamed circle marked the spot where the blaster's muzzle had burnt Gana's sweat slicked skin. She whimpered, "My father will kill you!"

Leaning in close with a vast empty look in her eyes, Rhyska said in a soft and deadly voice, "You keep saying that like it means something. Well, let me explain something to you, gizka princess! I ain't your damn servant and I really don't give a flaming toss who your daddy is. I ought to riddle you full of holes, the way you planned on doing me!"

Seconds ticked by and Rhyska still hadn't pulled the trigger. With an exhale, she drew back the blaster. Gana blinked her wet blue eyes rapidly and gained back some of her lost confidence when it became evident that Rhyska wasn't going to kill her. "You're not going to blast me?" Her voice was quickly regaining a tone that Rhyska found distinctly irritating.

"No, princess," Rhyska confirmed. "I'm not going to blast you." Grabbing the front of Gana's tunic, she tossed Carth's blaster into the air. Catching it by the barrel, she whipped it through the air and smacked Gana in the face with it, knocking her out cold.

Looking down at her, Rhyska whispered to her unconscious form, "Blasting people just isn't the same as smacking them. Plus, you're never gonna learn not to mess with me if you're dead."

"Um," Carth slurred confusedly "Wha jeshed happnd?" Turning around, Rhyska found Carth where he had fallen. His face was red from the sudden drop and his eyes looked unfocused.

Rhyska grimaced and knelt down beside him. "Oops! Sorry about that!"

Helping him up, he squinted his eyes at the bodies around them, "Are thoshe dead peephole?" he asked, sounding incredulous.

"Not all of them," Rhyska said defensively as she steadied him. "She started it!"

"Wi' my blashter?!" Carth made a grab for it, but Rhyska evaded his flailing hand and slid his blaster back into his holster. "I borrowed it for a just a second. Don't go grabbing it now! I don't want to have to explain to you tomorrow morning how you accidentally blasted your balls off checking your piece!"

"Whada I say bout low profile?!" Carth agonized, leaning heavily on her. "Whole galaxy pends on our mish'n!"

"How can I forget?" Rhyska said dryly as she steered them back towards the apartment. "You never shut up about it. Now lower your voice. Wouldn't want anyone to hear about our secret mission, now would you?"

* * *

**Author Note:** Hope you enjoyed my chappie. Feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	4. The Morning After

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**The Morning After

* * *

**

Carth groaned as the bright light of the Tarisian sun glared at him from the apartment's naked windows. Sounds of a city in full swing and speeders racing by were mercifully held at bay by the thick glass windows. 

Sensitive to light and sound in a way he had never experienced before, Carth rolled off the bed and fell on to the floor face first with a painful thud. Curling up on his side he watched the room around him spin crazily. He lay there for what felt like an eternity as his stomach began to churn and wrench even as the room slowed down to a manageable speed. He was not a lightweight drinker. As a matter of fact, being a career star pilot and soldier, he and his fellow crewmates could put a serious dent in a bar when they put their credits and minds to it. Yet here he was, curled up into a fetal position, deciding whether or not he was going to spew what little contents remained in his stomach.

He couldn't help but notice that he was wearing just his jumper. From his position on the floor he couldn't see his shirt, pants, boots, or even his distinctive orange jacket lying around. Vaguely, he wondered where his blaster was. He spotted it still in his holster which was currently hanging off of a nearby chair. The only thing besides his clothes that was missing was a certain woman. However, he was strangely happy she wasn't there. _"If she were here,"_ he reasoned to himself. _"There would be talking and talking would hurt my head more than it hurt already."_ Still he wondered where she was, and then he wondered what exactly was in Tarisian Ale.

Carth was certain that there was more to it than met the eye. He wasn't sure what it was, but Tarisian Ale didn't just knock you on your ass. It beat you where you lay, leaving your head a scrambled, throbbing mess all the while craving just one more drop. His throat was parched and for some inexplicable reason, even though he knew he was going to have to crawl into the refresher because of that swill, he wanted just one more sip. When the room had finally decided to stop moving and the lights overhead became bearable, Carth managed to pull himself upright and stumble the few feet into it took to get to the refresher.

He didn't know how long he spent in there, but he was still standing beneath a cascade of hot water that was fast growing cold when he heard noises out in the main room.

Despite his throbbing head, his still impaired vision, and his lack of clothing, Carth was determined to take the intruder by surprise. Leaving the shower on, he stood just next to the entryway when the refresher door slid open and a hand with a fluffy white towel reached in. "Just take the towel!" Rhyska said impatiently. As if realizing that Carth was still looking at the towel suspiciously she informed him, "It's me, you nit! If you try to do anything stupid, I will hurt you!"

Carth grinned. _"Yeah, that sounded just like her."_ Taking the towel from her outstretched hand he said, "Thanks."

Before the door closed, her other hand held stretched out with a cleaner version of his shirt and pants. "Wow! I don't recall remembering laundress being on your list of credentials."

Just before the refresher door slid shut, Carth heard her flat reply, "It's not."

"_Hmm…She sounds kind of mad."_ He wondered if something happened last night that he couldn't recall.

---------------

Rhyska rolled her eyes while she waited for Carth to take the towel and his clothes.

Blast, but she was too tired. She felt like curling up in the chair and going to sleep, but there were things that needed doing. So she dumped all her bags on the large table in the back of the room and started sorting through some of her purchases. All the equipment and supplies she had purchased from Kebla she stashed in the footlocker. Her additional purchases she separated.

Earlier, she sought out Larrim the Twi'lek vendor in the apartment complex. He directed her to a small store on the promenade that specialized in _quality used goods at discount prices_, the fancy term for _used cheap crap_. She could have kissed him when she entered the store, except he was all the way back at the complex and she wasn't in a kissing mood after lugging all that crap she back to the apartment, but the irritation had been worth it. She picked up a few things that made life just a tad bit more livable and after she was through with the droids, life would improve immensely.

Carth was still in the refresher when the cleaning droids finally arrived. Handing the bag of garbage to one she pulled the other into the room and began reprogramming him. Splicing into the little guys' subroutines, she added one for pressure washing the walls, sanitizing the surfaces, and cleaning the carpet and floors of the apartment.

After this morning's incident, Rhyska simply couldn't take living like this anymore. She might have been unconscious for the first three days, but this place was too gross to be believed. Especially, after Carth had hurled on himself, on her, on his bed, and on the floor. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd seen anybody vomit that much. Not to mention she didn't recall seeing him eat anything. Hell, she hadn't eaten anything yesterday! So she still couldn't figure out what the hell he had been spewing. It had pissed her off to no end. She stripped off his clothes and moved him to the vomit-free bed. Then she had gazed at the discolored linens briefly before muttering darkly and walked to the other end of the room.

It had been a long day and proved to be an even longer night. She couldn't sleep after that, the bed linens still smelled like vomit and so did the floor. So instead of making herself completely miserable by pretending to sleep in a less than comfortable chair, she took stock of what they had, which wasn't a lot. They needed new linens, and all the towels were soiled and dirty. The dishes and flatware needed to go. So, as with the refresher, she started cleaning the sink, counters, and the cabinets of the kitchenette. She wiped down both the main table and the small side table in the room and worked her way to the fridge. She had assumed that would have been the most unpleasant. Ironically, it was clean. The only problem she could see was that it was empty. Again, she wondered what in space Carth had puked up.

The little droid in front of her had let out a series of boops and beeps that jarred her from her reverie. The little guy was somewhat resistant to having its wires crossed, but stopped complaining when Rhyska upgraded some of its components and added a few new parts. She was in the middle of oiling some gears when Carth emerged from the refresher.

He looked a lot better than he had this morning, which wasn't saying a lot. He still looked like he was spit up by a bantha, but she bought something for that as well.

Wearing his very recently laundered clothes he asked, "Have you seen my jacket and boots?" Rhyska pointed to his bed, but his attention was focused on the pile of items on the table. "What the hell is all of this?"

"What does it look like?" Rhyska asked snappishly.

"Where did you get the credits for all of this?" Carth looked at the goods on the table warily.

Rhyska looked at her purchases and repeated, "Where did I get the credits?" While Carth waited expectantly for an answer, Rhyska thought back to this morning when she couldn't sleep. She had wanted to shower, but there were no clean towels. Her stomach was grumbling, but there was nothing to eat. She supposed that with the way things had gone she should have been glad that he'd missed her bodysuit when he had gotten sick earlier, but he did manage to nail her vest and boot. The vest she removed and the boot she washed off. Eventually, her mounting irritation with her surroundings and the lingering smell of bile drove her to desperate measures.

Before morning roused the nearby tenants, she had spliced into several apartments above and below her level. Creeping in and out soundlessly, Rhyska burgled her way through nearly all of the apartments. Nicking mostly credits from each apartment and the odd medpack, she couldn't help but think of Carth the whole time. Knowing that as an upstanding citizen, he would never approve of thieving. Of course, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. And so the "Free Bastila" fund was born and whether they were aware or not, people had donated. As Rhyska recalled the early morning activities that had led to the number of goods sitting on the table she smiled dreamily and answered, "Pazaak."

Carth looked at her suspiciously and pointed to the pile. "You won all this at pazaak?"

Rhyska laughed at him. Turning her attention to the little cleaning droid, she closed the compartment in his little metallic body and set him to work. "All done. Can you start with the carpet?" The droid tooted off happily to the corner of the room prepping itself for deep cleaning, pleased with all its new upgrades.

She stood up and walked over to the table and began sifting through the purchases on the table in search of something. "I won credits at pazaak. I spent the credits on this stuff."

Picking up a caffa pot and an eating utensil from the table, he shook his head incredulously. "What the hell for?"

"Peace of mind," Rhyska muttered more to herself than for him as she found the bag she was looking for.

"We could have spent that money on better things," Carth exclaimed.

Rhyska froze and looked at him like he was crazy. "_We_? What's with this we crap? _I _bet my money at pazaak. _I_ won. Therefore, _I_ get to spend it anyway _I_ like."

Carth looked like he wanted to strangle her. "I don't feel like you're taking this mission seriously at all! We are in this together! If we're are going to get off this planet we have to work together, which means you can't go off spending like you've got credits to burn!"

Before he could continue his tirade, Rhyska exclaimed, "You puked on me!"

Her exclamation made him wince and stopped him mid thought. "What?" Bemused, Carth replied, "I did not!"

"You did," Rhyska insisted. "Why do you think I had your clothes cleaned? You puked all over yourself, got it on the bed, and on me."

Carth's face fell as he looked past her and noted the clean sheets on both beds. Looking back at her he asked her quietly, "I puked on you?"

Rhyska nodded. "Yup, you did."

"Wow," Carth breathed.

"Not really the wording I would use." Rhyska checked the contents of the bag and fumed.

"I'm sorry."

Rhyska looked up at him. If she were a better person she might have let it go. Instead, she smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Its okay. I plan on returning the favor sometime in the near future."

Carth's face fell and he swallowed hard. _"Why?"_ he asked himself as he watched her disappear into the refresher with a bag_. "Why did I survive the Endar Spire only to be stuck with her? Why couldn't I have been stuck with a real soldier? Soldiers didn't do this to each other. They focused on the mission and got things done." _Carth didn't even know what this was. He only knew he was miserable. His head was still pounding and they were no closer to finding Bastila. Last night's trip was a complete waste of time. With a sigh, he located his boots and strapped on his holster. He was zipping up his orange jacket and still lamenting his misfortune when Rhyska emerged from the refresher.

If the stunned look on Carth's face was any indication, Rhyska knew Yun would be more than satisfied when he saw her later on tonight.

Her hair was smoothly styled. Separated into three sections, they were twisted close to the scalp and pinned up into a combined ponytail. The result was a fall of glossy black hair with a random locks twisted into spirals. Her bangs were smoothed down and tendrils of hair framed her face. She was still wearing her black body armor, but on top of that she wore a sheer violet, blue, and green printed halter dress. It fastened around her neck and hugged her figure down to her hips. From there it fell just past her knees in the front and past her calves in the back. A black utility belt and holster hung low on her hips. The dress was split from hem to thigh on both sides which allowed easy access to the blaster she had strapped to her leg. A dark violet, fitted leather swoop jacket encased her upper torso. Partially zipped up, it served the purpose of a bodice. Holding everything in and breaking up the lines of her body, making her look taller than she actually was.

Rhyska thought she looked pretty good. However, Carth seemed to think differently. "What the hell is that?"

"Thanks, Carth! You're a real ladies man," Rhyska replied archly. She passed him by and sat on her bed. Despite the angry looks he was giving her, she ignored him and jammed her feet into her boots.

Carth stood in the middle of the room with arms crossed over his chest putting up quite an imperious pose, as he huffed, "I'm serious."

"So was I when I said I planned to throw up on you," Rhyska hissed. The little vial she had purchased for hangovers lay underneath the pile of packages on the table and Rhyska found that she really didn't care how bad his head hurt. If he was going to be a jerk, then he'd suffer for it until she was able to return the favor and hurl on him. "Are you ready or what? We need to leave."

"What do you mean? Do you plan on going out somewhere?" He pointed at her dubiously. "Dressed like that?"

"If I could manage it, I'd throw up on you right now," Rhyska informed him. "As it is, I'm starving and we have some more ground to cover before the party."

Carth looked positively lost. "What party?"

"Blast it, Carth!" Rhyska hollered, causing him to wince in pain. "Just make for the door already!"

Without so much as another word, she turned on her heel and walked out of the apartment. She was followed by the cleaning droid who booped and beeped at Carth in a disapproving manner as it made its way out of the apartment and to the waste management room to dump its contents.

"_Even the droids are against me,"_ Carth thought as he rubbed his temples. Walking slowly out of the room he prayed fervently that things picked up and quick. Rhyska seemed like the kind of girl who could keep her cool no matter what the situation. Find an answer or solution or create one if she needed to. Her resourcefulness was not an issue. Her lack of comprehension about their situation was what frightened Carth. If they didn't get off this planet soon, he had a feeling Malak would have no qualms about bombing Taris they way he did Telos. If that was Taris' fate, then he didn't want to be here when it happened.

---------------

Carth stole glances at Rhyska as they walked in search of a place to eat. She still looked pissed, but she wasn't quite angry enough to starve him. They grabbed a quick bite to eat in a small restaurant and ate in silence the whole time. Carth had tried periodically to start up a conversation, but had been rebuffed with a piercing gaze and the curt phrase, "Not talking. Eating." He'd given up when she ordered a second helping and promptly ignored him.

So he waited until they were back and walking on the street again before making another attempt at small talk. "So, are we wandering around aimlessly or what?"

She glanced at him coolly as they walked. "We are scouting the area and looking for more information."

"Right," Carth said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "Like the cantina."

Rhyska gave him a sidelong glance and snickered, "I got something very promising from the cantina. Sorry if all you got was a hangover."

Carth noted that she didn't sound at all apologetic. "What exactly did you get?"

"Corroborating information," Rhyska informed him as she pulled her data pad out and pulled up the city map. "And an invitation."

"An invitation?" Carth tried to recall the events of the night before. An image of a pasty faced man with dark hair looming over Rhyska popped into his mind. "From that creep from before?"

"Creep?" Rhyska looked up from her data pad for a moment and then added, "I was thinking more desperate loser. Desperate, lonely loser. He specifically used the word lonely."

"Explain to me why you are going to this party again?"

With a sigh, she put away her data pad and gave him her full attention. "_We_ are going to this party because he is a junior Sith Officer. In fact, I expect that most everyone there will be a Sith in some capacity."

"There's no way we're going to infiltrate a Sith party," Carth shook his head in disbelief as they continued walking.

"No, we aren't going to infiltrate or crash the party," Rhyska agreed. "We are going to walk through the front door and then mingle. Maybe even drink. Although in your case, I'd avoid the Tarisian Ale." She turned to Carth as they came up to a medical facility, a flicker of mischief in her eyes. "Does the fleet never let you people out and party or what?"

"I get out, sister," Carth huffed. "I get out plenty! I just don't socialize with Sith." As an after thought he added, "And I can hold my drink!"

"You threw up on me!" Rhyska reminded him with a poke to the chest. "And yes, for one night, you will be socializing with the Sith. Now come on. I want to buy some medpacks."

Carth followed her into the medical facility glaring daggers at her. Never in his life had he met anyone so infuriating! And blast it if he wasn't going to be apologizing for that one thing for the duration of this mission. And Carth had a gut feeling that this was going to be a very long mission.

Inside the medical facility, Rhyska was surprised to find it spacious and empty. A tanned young man in medical tech robes stood near the front of the room. He seemed to be occupied with the console he was working on. He paid them no mind. So she walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, can I ask you a question or two?"

The young man shot her an irritated look and said in a grating voice, "Can't you see I'm busy? Talk to Zelka if you need anything." He gestured to an older man to the back of the room.

"Right." She walked towards the doctor, hoping that he would be a little more receptive to her questions. Besides, it didn't seem to have any patients to take care of.

The old man noticed her right away. His dark eyes were bright with intelligence and his demeanor warm. Though the younger man could have been related to him, they seemed to have vastly different personalities. He smiled as she approached him. "Good afternoon and welcome to my medical facility. I am Zelka Forn and I gather you are visiting our fine planet for a spell. Have you come in search of some medical supplies or do you need healing? I can treat most any ailment or injury right here." Belatedly, he added, "Well, everything except for the Rakghoul disease, of course."

Intrigued, Rhyska asked, "Rakghoul disease? What's that?"

"A terrible affliction that has plagued Taris for many generations," he informed them quite seriously. "We call them Rakghouls. They are the monsters that live and feed in the Under City, the true surface of our world."

"Monsters?" Rhyska face fell at the news. "Diseased monsters?"

Carth blanched. "And they live in the Under City?"

Zelka nodded gravely, "Live and breed in the Under City. Some think prolonged exposure to the Under City causes the disease, but if I understand it correctly, the disease is passed from person to person through direct contact. By that I mean, biting and scratching. Those that are infected eventually mutate into mindless flesh-eating beasts. It is quite gruesome."

Rhyska looked accusingly at Carth. "Mutant monsters, eh? So, I suppose it's safe to say that these creatures attack pretty much anything that moves."

"You've got that right," Zelka confirmed. "No one goes down to the Under City unless they absolutely have to and even then, they don't go alone or unprepared. Sometimes even that isn't enough. Once infected there's little anyone can do about it."

"So there isn't a cure," Rhyska said crestfallen. The idea of running around the Under City with a bunch of monsters was a thrill she just didn't need.

"There is no antidote for the disease, but Republic scientists at the military base were perfecting a serum to prevent further infection. Unfortunately, the Sith arrived," Zelka replied sadly. "They overran the military base and refused the Tarisian medical community access to any of the research labs. No one has gone near the base since the Sith arrived, its crawling with guards."

Carth looked at Rhyska upon hearing about the heavily guarded military base. Rhyska shrugged and continued listening to Zelka. "I've heard that the patrols sent into the Under City are using samples of the Rakghoul serum. It's a shame that the people who really need it will have to suffer. If only I could get a sample, then finally we'd be able to eradicate the Rakghoul disease forever. It really is too bad."

"Well, we might be able to find you a sample of that serum," Rhyska stated.

Zelka looked at her like she had lost her mind. "There's no way that anyone could lay hands on that serum. Whatever serum they have left is locked safely away in the military base. Although I suppose the Sith patrols in the Under City might have a sample on them." Shaking his head he added cynically, "That's if they haven't already used it because of the Rakghoul infection and I doubt very much that a patrol would just hand it over."

"Don't worry Zelka," Rhyska said with an encouraging smile. "Carth and I are making our way down to the Under City. We're bound to run into a Sith patrol. I'm certain we'll be able to get you a sample, whether they feel like donating or not."

Zelka looked horrified. "Don't even joke about that!" He looked around the room as though to confirm that they were alone. In a hushed voice Zelka explained, "I don't want the Sith to think I've been suggesting that people start attacking their patrols! Not only would they blast me, they could shut down the medical facility!"

Welcoming demeanor replaced by business like stiffness, Zelka asked, "Now is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Well," Rhyska began hesitantly, "Do you know anything about the Republic escape pods that have crashed in the Under City?"

"Republic escape pods?" Zelka smoothed his doctor's uniform and looked away. "Uh, no. What makes you think I know anything about that? I didn't know those pods crashed in the Under City. I don't know anything at all."

Rhyska looked at him knowingly. "Well, you seem awfully defensive about this."

"I'm not defensive," Zelka insisted. "I just don't know what you're talking about." Looking quite perturbed he exclaimed, "This just as bad as when the Sith came by the first time to harass me."

Rhyska gave him her best "trust me" face and assured him, "Relax, Zelka, we're not with the Sith. It'll be just between the three of us."

"Well," Zelka began reluctantly. "You don't look like you're with the Sith. I…I suppose I could tell you or rather, you can follow me and I can show you."

"Show us what?" Carth asked suspiciously. Zelka didn't answer. Instead he walked through a set of side doors into another room. Following him, Rhyska and Carth found themselves glued to the floor as a false wall slid back to reveal rows of kolto tanks with Republic soldiers floating within.

"Stars above," Rhyska whispered.

Carth looked at them astounded. "So many. How did they get here?"

Understanding dawned on Zelka. "You're Republic soldiers. I'm amazed anyone survived the crash, let alone walked away from it!"

Looking back at the kolto tanks Zelka continued, "People have been bringing me crash victims they've found in the Upper City. What was I going to do? I had to treat them. So far we've been lucky, the Sith haven't suspected a thing."

Catching the look of distress on Carth's face as he gazed from tank to tank he explained gently, "The injuries they sustained from the crash were extensive. Most won't survive and others---making their last days comfortable ones, was the least I could do. I wish I could have done more, but medically speaking, there was nothing left I could do. I am sorry."

Carth smiled gratefully at Zelka, "For what it's worth, you have my thanks. It's good to know that at least some of these men ended up in compassionate hands."

"When the Sith came by the first time around asking questions, I worried that they had discovered what I was doing, but they haven't returned since. It could be they will never know about your fellow soldiers and I would take it as a personal favor if they never did," Zelka looked at the two of them anxiously.

"Don't worry," Rhyska promised. "Your secret is safe with us."

"Thank you," Zelka said with a relieved sigh. "Now if you'll excuse me I need to return to the front in case anyone comes in needing medical attention."

Zelka walked out of the room quietly, leaving Rhyska to watch a very somber Carth.

"Anyone you recognize?"

"No one I knew personally if that's what you meant."

Rhyska frowned at his comment. Walking over to him, she watched the people floating in the tanks. "I didn't mean it quite the way you think I meant it. I was a specialty recruit. My skills made me-- flexible I guess is the term they would have used. I was a Jack of all Trades, so among the crew, I wasn't very well liked."

"Really, that is so shocking because we get along so well," Carth said sarcastically.

Rhyska was just stunned at how much that comment hurt. Trying to keep that from showing she continued, "I was only close to the people I shipped out with. Looking at the people here, I wonder how they fared. Although I would have to guess that the hired mercs, Kelvin, Gadaar, and Merel probably bit it. It's sort of a hazard of their line of work. I kind of thought maybe Beltren or Xirel might have made it. Beltren was always really resourceful, and Xirel is just crooked enough to hide in the shadow of a screw. He was kind of a parasite, but he was also a lot of fun. I'd hate to think they didn't make it."

Looking at the rows of men floating in the tanks, Rhyska said softly, "We made it thanks to you. So I have to believe that there's always the chance that others made it too."

Carth looked at her guiltily. "I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"I forgive you."

Carth's lips quirked into a smile. "But not for puking on you?"

"I can't forgive you for that," Rhyska said in mock seriousness. "I have to return the favor so we can call it even."

Carth draped an arm around her shoulder and led her back into the main room. "Let's get out of here."

"Sure," Rhyska nodded absently as they walked towards Zelka. "Hey, Carth?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for not crashing the pod."

With a last glance back towards the room, he smiled sadly. "You're welcome."

* * *

**Author Note:** Feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	5. The End of the Road

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**The End of the Road

* * *

**

They stayed just long enough for Rhyska to pick up a couple of antidote packs that Zelka swore would keep the Rakghoul virus at bay before they headed out the door. 

Surprisingly, the tech caught them outside the medial facility door.

"Psst… You there!" he called. "Wait a minute. I need to talk to you about the Rakghoul serum. I've got an offer you might want to consider."

Rhyska and Carth exchanged looks. "An offer? What are you talking about?"

"I'm Gurney, we met earlier. I work for Zelka."

Carth eyed him warily and drawled, "Yeah, that part we got."

Gurney looked at Carth and said, "The part you didn't get was how much that serum is really worth. Zelka isn't the only one who wants to get his hands on a Rakghoul serum. Davik Kang will pay you ten times what Zelka can if you get the cure."

"Davik Kang?" Carth shook his head, unfamiliar with the name. "Are we supposed to know who that is?"

Rhyska was already pretty certain she knew. From what Dia had told her and if all the whispers she had heard in the bar were true, Davik was the Exchange boss for Taris.

"Everyone knows who Davik Kang is!" Gurney exclaimed. His eyes took on a hungry look as he listed Kang's exploits. "He's The Man in charge around here; gambling, smuggling, extortion… He's got a slice of all the action on Taris!"

"So he's a crime lord," Carth said flatly.

"The man is a role model," Gurney said in an awestruck voice. "He started out with nothing and now he's got it all. Credits, power, women… He's living the Tarisian dream right?"

"_Right…"_ Rhyska thought to herself. _"Yet another scammer who wants something, for nothing." _

"And why does Davik want the cure so badly?"

"If it's got the potential to turn a profit, Davik is gonna want it. He'll make a fortune selling the serum to the infected." Gurney sneered, "Zelka will never make a single credit. He'll just give it away just like he's always done."

Rhyska snorted. "I'd rather give the serum to Zelka. At least I know he'd get it to the right people."

"As it turns out, I already did my one good deed for the year, how about you?" Gurney wheedled persuasively. "Come on! Think! Davik will pay serious credits for the cure, more than Zelka could ever afford to give. With times like these, sometimes a body's got to watch out for themselves."

Carth nodded condescendingly. "And then only the rich could afford the cure. Just let the poor suffer right?"

Gurney shot him a dirty look. "When you decide to wise up, take the Rakghoul serum to Zax in the Lower City bounty office. He works for Davik and I can guarantee he'll pay you what the cure is really worth." With that, Gurney turned around and walked back into the facility.

"Uh huh, finder's fee."

"What?"

"We do all the work and that punk wants to claim a finder's fee," Rhyska said knowingly. "I don't know about you, but I am not going into mutated, disease carrying, monster-land to make a two-bit punk like him get any damn thing!"

"Don't have to tell me twice." Optimistically, he pointed out, "At least we learned a couple of things there."

"Yeah, well we're not finished yet," Rhyska said as she directed them forward.

---------------

Rhyska was matching their co-ordinates on the map of her data pad on the other end of the quad when she and Carth stumbled upon two thugs harassing an old man.

The street they were on was not as busy as the one with the cantina, so no one noticed or cared when the thugs had backed the old man into a shadowy corner of the promenade. Seeing them was difficult, hearing them was another matter entirely.

"You know why we're here don't cha?" the Rodian drawled. "We're here because you missed your last payment. I don't think I have to tell you how much that disappoints Mr. Kang."

The old man was slightly disheveled with gray hair, fast going white. He trembled uncontrollably as he tried to barter for more time. "Here! I've got fifty credits. It's a down payment. That should buy me some time, right?"

The Aqualish muscle laughed as the Rodian replied, unapologetically, "It's a bit late for that." His hand slid down to his blaster, "You either have it or you don't, old man. In any case, Davik can't have people not paying back their debts!"

The old man cried, "I don't have that much!" His breathing came in quick gasps and sweat drizzled down the sides of his head. His eyes watery with panic and fear as he tried to reason with them, "How can I give you credits I don't have?"

"Well, now that ain't my problem," The Rodian replied callously. "Let's take a walk old man. Mr. Kang wants to have a word with you, in private." With that the thugs grabbed at the man.

"NO!" he erupted with a loud cry. Trying to jerk himself out of their grasp he shrieked, "Somebody Help! Please! They're going to kill me!"

Carth watched the event unfold before him, the expression on his face torn. "I know I said that we needed to stay low key and all, but we can't just let them kill the guy."

Rhyska arched a brow and considered the situation at hand. A tiny smile curved her lips as she murmured, "Hmm…"

It was at that moment that the Rodian realized that they had an audience and nodded to his Aqualish counterpart, "Well, would you look at that? Witnesses."

In a deadly quiet voice he stated, "Mr. Kang doesn't like witnesses."

Smiling sweetly at him, she drawled, "Step away from the old man, or you'll have to deal with us."

Accepting the challenge, the Rodian pulled his blaster, "Well, then I guess we'll have to do just that."

Carth's blaster was already out and firing at the Aqualish who held the old man hostage. Rhyska dodged the few blaster bolts the Rodian got off before pulling her own blaster and shooting him point blank in the head.

The fight was short and hadn't yet caught anyone's attention, but that could quickly change.

Straightening up, the old man stuttered out, "Thank you, I owe you my life! If it weren't for you, I'd be a dead man." Reaching out, Rhyska patted him on the shoulder and straightened his collar. He was in such a state of disarray and nerves that more than a few people would assume he was mugged. "I hate to say it, but I should have listened to my wife! She said Davik would send his thugs after me. Told me I was gonna get myself killed getting tangled up with a crime lord. If only I had more time to scrape together a hundred credits. Stupid blockade! I can't even get off world!"

"Well," Rhyska said sympathetically. "Maybe I can help with that."

The old man smiled at her shakily. "You already helped me by saving me from those bounty hunters. Not that I'm not grateful or anything, I am. There are no words to express how thankful I am that you stepped in to help me. It's just that I can't run forever. Eventually, Davik is going to catch up to me and then…well that'll be it, won't it?"

Reaching into her money pouch, Rhyska pulled out five, twenty-credit pieces and placed them in the old man's hands. "Here's a hundred credits, take 'em."

Carth whispered in astonishment, "Wow, didn't see that coming."

The man's eyes bugged out of his head and he looked at the money incredulously, "You're giving me a hundred credits? Just like that. I – I don't know what to say. Thank you!" He laughed hysterically for a moment and then swept Rhyska up into a bone crunching hug as he lifted her off her feet and swung her around in elation.

"Hey! Pops!" Rhyska cried, surprised that the frail old man had that much gusto in him. "Listen! It's only currency! You can put me down now! Seriously!"

Carth watched the old man swing Rhyska around with a grin and a chuckle. Rhyska looked slightly disturbed by the old man's display of affection and appreciation.

Setting her back on her feet he exclaimed happily, "Now I can pay back Davik. My wife will never believe this! I'm going to take these credits to him right away!" He bounded off happily. Rhyska straightened her outfit and sighed. Watching the old man run off with a spring in his step at his renewed lease on life, Rhyska smiled and waved until he disappeared from view.

Carth smiled genuinely at her and said, "I'm really impressed with you. You didn't have to help him the way you did."

"Oh, yes," Rhyska chuckled. "I am the fount from which all generosity springs." Then Carth watched in shock as she squatted by the bodies of the thugs and began going through their pockets.

Carth's face fell in disbelief as he watched her. "What are you doing? We have to get going before a Sith patrol arrives or some pedestrian comes by!" Then he saw her unearth a pouch heavy with credits off of the dead Rodian. "You – you gave him a hundred credits because you knew they were loaded!" Carth accused.

Straightening, she counted the credits while she spoke, "Well, duh! They're Exchange thugs shaking down people with debts. Of course they were going to have some credits on them. I just figured the odds of them having a hundred plus credits were in my favor, so who cares?"

Carth stared at her, utterly confounded and completely speechless.

"Mr. IOU will remain alive and kicking, and blissfully debt free," she reasoned in a sensible tone. "I'm not out any money and I actually made a little extra from this scuffle." She paused momentarily when she saw the expression on Carth's face. "What?"

"I don't believe you. You are completely unreal." Dazed, he turned and walked off.

"You really should know better by now," Rhyska chuckled as she followed him.

---------------

On the other end of Taris, Rhyska consulted her data pad, trying to locate Yun Genda's address.

Carth looked mildly irritated as he looked over her shoulder. "Have you found it yet?"

"I'm pretty sure that is the winner," Rhyska said pointing to the sky scraper across the quad from them.

"That'll be party central tonight."

"No way," Carth stated flatly. "I'll walk the promenade with you, but I'm not going to that party."

Flashing him a devious look, she spoke in a sugar coated tone, "That is so cute! You actually think I'm asking you."

"Oh, so is it like an order then?" Carth joked. "Listen kid, we aren't going to learn anything from a bunch of piss drunk Sith. They won't be talking about anything of value. It's not like you can pump one of them for information right there in front of a whole bunch of other Sith. Not only will they not tell you anything, they'll probably kill you. It's their job."

"Are you always this negative?" Rhyska asked as she pulled him down the street. "Who said I was going to ask anybody any questions? Sometimes, the best thing anyone can do is shut up and listen."

"I'm not going," Carth insisted stubbornly.

Rhyska narrowed her eyes at him and walked on ahead. "You are such a pain!" she muttered under her breath.

"I heard that."

Rhyska ignored Carth and memorized the buildings and shops around them. She needed some land marks and something else to occupy her thoughts, if she didn't she was going to wring Carth's neck. As if in response to her current predicament, she was set upon by three drunks reeking of Tarisian ale. The first was a gangly dark haired man. The second man was a puffed up red head who was supporting a dark skinned man with long braided hair. All of them dressed like Tarisian nobles. It was long past noon, but not yet dark enough for evening. Either they drank very early in the day, or it had been an even longer night for them. What little pity Rhyska had for their inevitable hangovers faded with the first drunk's comment.

"Whatsh this planet coming to?" The dark haired drunk slurred mostly to his red haired friend, "Schlummies walking 'round the Upper City."

Turning back to her, he asked nastily, "Shouldn't you go back to the Lower City where you belong, schlummie?

Carth looked them over as they hicced and swayed, his hand resting comfortably on his blaster. Shaking his head in disgust, he muttered, "Well, this is rich."

"Yeah, what he said," the red-haired drunk exclaimed. He seemed to be just a touch less inebriated than the dark haired man. The man he held up right moaned, his head lolling from side to side. "These streets are for the upper citizens! You better get outta here, get outta the way if'n you know what's good fer you."

With a tired sigh, Rhyska dropped her head. When she raised it again, it was like she was a different person. A bright, sunny smile curved her lips, a light twinkled in her eyes, and the pitch of her voice changed. "Oh come on, guys! We can all be friends!" Persuasively, she said, "Let me buy you a drink!"

"What? A drink?" The dark haired drunk perked up at the offer. "Hey, fer a schlummie you're not so bad." Turning to his puffy friend he said, "Hey, boys! This schlummie's buying us the next round!"

"No way!" the dark skinned man said, coming round from his drunken stupor. "No more drinksh! We're late enough as it ish."

"Oh yeah. I guess you're right," the dark haired drunk said, somewhat disappointed. "Maybe next time, schlummie. Hic. C'mon boys, lets go."

As the trio set off swaying and tripping over one another, the persona Rhyska embodied for the few minutes she wasted on them was suddenly gone. Carth felt uneasy about how she could blithely move from one personality to another. She lied, manipulated, and looted unrepentantly. He wasn't entirely certain, but he couldn't recall her playing pazaak in the cantina the night before. So her flawlessly delivered reason for her shopping spree was completely suspect. Everything about her was suspect.

As Carth watched the drunks go, he inquired sarcastically, "So, was that like a preview for tonight?"

"Cute, flyboy," Rhyska replied, in a voice that was not at all amused, as she continued on down the street. "Real cute."

"Seriously," Carth pressed. "What exactly do you think you are going to get out of this party? If I can get a straight answer from you, then I'll go with, but if you're doing this for other reasons…"

Rhyska stopped in her tracks and turned to him. "What other reasons could I possibly have for going to this party?"

"I don't know, why don't you tell me?" Carth stopped just in front of her with his arms crossed over his chest, an intense look of suspicion and distrust on his face.

"All right," Rhyska said tiredly. "Yun…"

"Pasty creep," Carth corrected her.

"Anyway, he said that he and all of his Sith buddies were going to start this party right after their shifts. They're not even going back to the base to put their gear away. We could score some uniforms or maybe a pass card or something. It might get us into the base or the Under City. I got the impression that there wouldn't be a whole lot of talking at this party," Looking at Carth she added sweetly, "Especially if somebody brings in your favorite ale."

"Yeah, what's in that stuff anyway?"

"I don't know," Rhyska shrugged. "You said you could hold your drink, but it messed you up but good."

"No, it didn't," Carth denied, even as he vividly recalled this morning and his still lingering hangover.

"Whatever, my point is these people plan to get wasted. I'm going to be there, but I don't want to go by myself. I figured you'd want to go as back up."

"Back up?" Carth repeated dubiously.

"Yeah, so like if Yun tries to kiss me," Rhyska began. "You can step in and take a hit for the team."

She laughed at the sour look on his face. Carth just shook his head and smiled. "He's not my type."

"I don't know," Rhyska chuckled. "Everything looks so much better when you're drunk."

"Not Yun!" He watched her as she laughed and walked. The sound of her laughter nearly had the power to make him forget why he thought she was such a nutcase. Giving her a side long glance he asked, "Just for argument's sake, how far are you willing to go at this party?"

Her laughter ended abruptly and she looked at him with eyes that made Carth want to take a step or two back. "What kind of question is that?" Rhyska demanded. "No matter how it's answered, it's always a wrong one. I say no and you start freaking out that I don't want to help you find Baz. I say yes and your first reaction is to freak out and say something like, "You're unreal!" Seriously, Carth! Do yourself a favor and stop trying to find new and interesting ways of torturing yourself."

"You're the one who wants to go to this party," Carth pointed out. "You've convinced me that it might be worth checking out, but I want to know what your limits are so I can step in and take one for the team."

Her anger abated slightly as she laughed at his joke. "Hah! I knew it! You've got a thing for Yun!"

"If, by thing, you mean my soon to be upgraded specialty blaster, then yes. I've got a thing for Yun," Carth replied jovially. "Baz?"

"Well, the longer version is kind of weird, don't you think? I mean it sounds like less of a name and more of a species of some large, hairy mammal. You know, one of those scary looking ones with a scrunched up face that smacks its chest when it's angry."

That set off a torrent of laughter from Carth who instantly recalled the Bastila he knew and blended that with the description that Rhyska had just imagined. The caricature he imagined burned itself into his mind. He had worked with Jedi from time to time in previous missions ever since the Jedi Civil War began. He understood how important Bastila was, especially to the war effort. Still, he couldn't help but notice during her command of the Endar Spire that she was willful, impulsive, and somewhat arrogant. All of which, he found to be terrible aspects in a leader and even stranger qualities to be found in a Jedi. It was yet another thing that left him ill at ease.

A little over three months ago, the Jedi had asked for command of a ship. Being as enigmatic and evasive as they usually were, they managed to talk the Senate out of one without any explanations. The fleet had complied, giving Bastila command of the Endar Spire. To ensure the success of the mission, Admiral Dodonna had him reassigned as the Endar Spire's military advisor. Secretly, he was under orders to uncover the true nature of Bastila's mission.

Three months later and he still didn't know what the hell was going on. He couldn't even figure out why they had stopped at Taris. Despite his warnings, which were backed up by the latest intelligence reports, Bastila had ignored his advice and it had cost them a ship and a crew. Hopefully, when they found Bastila, he would have his answers. The betrayal of Revan and Malak had devastated the fleet in more ways than one. Trust was a virtue he had done his best to forget and whatever hopes he had about Bastila and the Jedi saving the Republic from Malak and the Sith...well, their credibility with him was pretty much shot.

Carth shook his head clear those particular thoughts and focused on moment at hand. He admitted in a low teasing voice, "You know, I've met her. She actually leans a little bit more towards a tallish, green scaled lizard that spits out fire and steams from the ears."

That set them both off again as they made their way down the street. The laughter had relaxed the both of them somewhat and so he felt it a good time to ask, "So Nevar, tell me something about yourself."

"Like what?"

"Where are you from?"

"If you mean where was I born? Deralia, it's a little system out in the middle of nowhere."

His brow furrowed in curiosity, Deralia was about as far out on the rim as a person could get. As a newly colonized planet, it didn't receive many visitors and it was no where near the space lanes. "So how does a girl from the middle of nowhere end up a here?"

"By working in her father's fuel and repair station and then signing on with a freighter crew," she replied.

"Really? Fuel and repair station, huh?"

"Yeah," Rhyska nodded. "The job fell through a couple months later, though. Got stuck in Nar Shadaa, had to find work quick. So I signed on with the crew of Belly of the Beast."

"Hell of a name for a ship," Carth remarked.

"It was a hell of a ship and a damn fine crew," Rhyska said dreamily. Carth could tell that she was drifting. "I was a mechanic on their ship for five years. They were like family. Taught me everything I knew. I just about died when I lost them."

From the look on her face, Carth knew that it wasn't good. "What happened?"

"The same thing that happens to most freighters at some point in their career," Rhyska said with a pained look. "We got tagged."

Carth couldn't quite bring himself to say anything after that. She fiddled with her data pad as she mapped out the places they had seen and the route they had taken. He just walked along side her in awkward silence.

---------------

When they'd reached the other end of the promenade, one shop in particular caught Rhyska's eye. She watched a Twi'lek female clean the window of a store and fuss over the window display. Then she saw the Twi'lek turn to stare at a nearby crowd with a look of distress and worry before hurrying back into the store. Eyeing the crowd, Rhyska noticed an old man at its center, the people around him torn between rapt fascination and disgust. She had a bad feeling about that man. However, the store looked promising.

"You want to go into that droid shop?" Carth asked. "What for?"

"I used up some parts on the cleaning droid earlier. I've got a feeling there's something in there I can use."

The store was large, housing an array of droids for pretty much every conceivable job. A massive wall full of parts carefully separated into bins, were stacked from floor to ceiling. A coded door and customer window were to the back of the room. Specialty tools and parts were showcased as a backdrop to the service window. To the side of the window sat two utility droids. An orange and red unit that beeped in a high strung melody occasionally locked up and began beeping madly once more. The other utility droid was white and silver. It sat calmly, booping mostly to itself, spinning its head from its counterpart to Rhyska.

"A customer! Come in! Come in!" a soft Twi'lek voice called out from the service window. Coming out of her little room with a box of parts for restock, she introduced herself. "Janice Nall, at your service. Welcome to my Droid and Droid Supply Shop."

Like most Twi'lek females, she had a lovely and expressive face. Her green coloring set off her violet eyes and she moved with the grace of a dancer, a trademark of her kind. Unlike most, she was fully clothed from head to toe in a baggy mechanic's jumpsuit. A belt hung low on her hips with the weight of many tools and gadgets dragging it down. Heavy work boots thudded on the floor, but didn't affect her innate grace any. She exuded a warmth of spirit that the people of this planet sorely lacked. Rhyska liked her instantly.

"It's always good to see a new face." Taking in their clothes Janice deduced, "You're from off world, aren't you? Stuck here because of the blockade?"

"Yeah," Rhyska nodded.

"I figured as much. Most of the people who have come to me for droid servicing in the last few days have been off worlders. Regular customers are hard to come by," Janice said in a voice that led Rhyska to believe she was going through some hard times.

"Really? That's surprising. Your store seems to be fully loaded with all the bells and whistles. In this day and age, people can't seem to get by without the company of droids. I would think that your store would be hopping."

"A lot of the Tarisian upper citizens won't even come into my shop," Janice explained. Walking over to the parts wall, she talked as she restocked. "They refuse to shop at a store owned by a Twi'lek. Off worlders aren't quite so picky. They just want a job well done. Which I do, but they'll leave when the blockade lifts and then I'll be stuck with the same customer base like before."

Carth and Rhyska shared a perplexed look. "What do they have against Twi'leks?"

"Upper Taris isn't very tolerant of non humans. Twi'leks are the only species accepted on the surface, but even then, they'd prefer to see me dancing than own my own shop."

"It's pretty sad in this day and age that people can still be so narrow-minded, but some things never go out of style," Carth said regretfully.

Janice smiled at Carth, grateful for his empathy. "Most of the non humans live in the Lower City. Doesn't much matter which level you live on, it's rough all around. I try not to dwell on the bad though."

As if reminded that she was here to sell and they were here to buy, she brightened up and pitched them a special. "My selection is a bit limited right now. The Sith confiscated all my assault droids, but I've got a utility droid you might find interesting."

Rhyska perked up at that. "Utility droids? What do they do?"

With a grin Janice nodded to the little droids. "See those two units by the service window? They're small, but they're quite tough. With the right upgrades they can do some serious damage in a fight. Besides that, they do vehicle repairs and they make excellent security system splicers. Not that I condone that sort of thing."

"Of course," Carth said wryly as he shot Rhyska a pointed look. She ignored him and continued looking completely innocent, engrossed by Janice's description of the utility droid functions. Carth was beginning to worry.

"Fantastic! Can I see the droids?"

"There's just the two of them," Janice replied. "T3-H8 has been rebuilt, he's fifty credits. Then there's T3-M4, he's top of the line with all the options, but he's a custom order. He's scheduled for pickup in a few days."

"Bummer," Rhyska pouted. "I liked that whole options thing. Do you mind if we ask you a question or two?"

Janice shrugged. "I don't know if I'll be much help. I prefer the company of droids over people, but ask away."

"Do you know anything about those escape pods that crashed here on Taris?" Carth asked.

"Just that they crashed into the Under City."

"_Seems to be the one thing everybody knows,"_ Rhyska thought to herself. "What do you think of the Sith?"

Snorting lightly, Janice stated flatly, "I don't think much of them since they came in here and seized most of my droids. Seized and not paid for!" Stewing over that tidbit of information she continued, "I guess they were afraid of someone using my droids against them or maybe they wanted to use my droids for themselves." As an afterthought she added, "There's no such thing as bad droids you know, just bad owners."

"I know exactly what you mean." Pulling fifty credits from her pouch, she nodded towards the little utility droids. "You know, I'd like that T3-H8 Unit."

"Excellent choice," Janice said happily as she accepted the fifty credits. "I did the reconditioning on him myself. They don't get anymore reliable than him."

"So that's it?" Rhyska looked intently at the little guy, all manner of thieving schemes parading through her mind.

"Yup, don't worry," Janice promised. "He'll follow you everywhere."

Carth followed Rhyska and her sparky looking little droid as they headed out. "What exactly do you need a droid for?"

"Because it's cool," Rhyska chortled happily. "My very own personal security system splicer!"

Carth rolled his eyes and shook his head. T3-H8 followed close behind Rhyska, squeaking the whole way. They hadn't even gotten a couple of meters away from the store when the little droid's head began to spin uncontrollably. He wailed loudly and suddenly exploded. The front panel of his little barrel body flew forward with hisses and sparks.

Rhyska looked deeply traumatized at the sizzling little droid. Unable to help himself, Carth began to laugh. "Hey look, fireworks!"

Smacking him on the arm, Rhyska hissed, "You are so mean! He might still be able to understand that!"

Carth laughed even harder.

Cursing, Rhyska began picking up the pieces that had shot out from the broken droid.

Several minutes later, after Carth had composed himself, they came back into the droid shop.

"Hey, you're back," Janice said rather surprised from her chair behind the service window. Her eyes grew wide when she spotted T3-H8. "What happened to him?"

"He blew up…spectacularly!" Carth chuckled, not even attempting to hide how humorous he found the situation.

Rhyska glared at him warningly.

"He blew up? I thought I had taken care of that little cross wiring problem. Well, don't worry," Janice assured them. "I run an honest business. I don't have to give you a refund, but I don't want to lose a customer either. So here you go. No hard feelings, all right?"

"No hard feelings."

"Glad to hear it!" Janice replied, sounding very relieved. "I really can't afford to make my customers unhappy. Business is hard enough as it is."

"Well, if you're able to square away his problems, or if the sale with the other little guy with the options fall through, you just let me know!"

Janice smiled, happy at not losing a customer. After exchanging some contact information she reminded Rhyska and Carth, "Don't forget my store motto: If you need any droid parts, Janice Nal is your gal!"

---------------

Carth was still laughing at her when they left the store. "Why are you so hard up for a droid?"

"Because I want one," Rhyska muttered, making a face at him.

"Well, as much fun as it was to see your little toy explode, what was the point of going in there? We didn't learn anything new."

Rhyska looked at him oddly. "Were we listening to the same conversation?"

"What exactly did she say that was any different from what everyone else has said? This place is highly prejudiced. The Sith are everywhere and we already know that they're running around the Under City looking for escape pods."

"Wow," Rhyska said mock seriousness. "We really did hear two different conversations."

Carth arched a brow and asked curiously, "Why? What did you hear?"

"Well, I heard her say that the Sith seized a good portion of her droids."

"So?"

"So, she had utility droids, protocol droids, and other people friendly droids in her store, which means that the droids the Sith seized are probably combat droids. Much like how the Sith seized a good portion of all of Kebla's heavy grade weapons and armor."

Carth's lips were drawn in a tight line as he listened to her.

"Which leads me to believe that the military base they've overrun is going to be heavily armed and supported by battle droids and other wonderful mechanized things that probably have the ability to shoot at us from long distances," Rhyska said with a smile.

"You heard all of that?"

Rhyska nodded and pointed across the walkway. "Come on, I think what we're looking for is just around the bend."

As they walked along the promenade, they passed the small crowd that had made Janice nervous earlier. A voice in the crowd rang out over the cacophony of the crowd shouting, "Friends and fellow humans I bear warning of a great plague spreading across our planet. Hear me!"

Rhyska slowed down to listen to what the old man had to say. He sounded like a man with a crusade. Preachy old men weren't something she paid much attention to, but under the circumstances, she'd take free information over solicited any day.

"Citizens of Taris my name is Gorton Colu. Will you join my cause? Only together can we stop the spread of vermin and scum infesting our glorious world."

That perked up Rhyska's interest and she wondered, _"Was he talking about the Sith?"_

"Vermin and scum?" she said curiously. "What are you talking about?"

As though he were waiting for someone to ask that very question he continued on grandly, "My fellow Tarisians, I am talking about the unsightly looking aliens who walk amongst us; Rodians, Ithorians, Bith, and Wookies. All of them, defiling our world."

He paused dramatically and announced, "It is for this reason that I formed the Anti Alien League, so that we may band together and rid Taris of all alien interlopers!"

There were people in the group who were bobbing their heads in agreement. There were other, quieter people slowly trying to slip away from the group, hesitant to become part of something that had the potential to become very messy in the middle of an occupation.

Rhyska snorted in derision and said contemptuously, "Good grief! People actually listen to you while you peddle that ignorant pile of bantha crap?"

The old man's glowing façade slipped a little as his face twisted in anger. "You're just like the rest of those filthy alien lovers! When the end times come, you can burn with the lot of them!"

Carth took hold of her arm and whispered, "Forget about him. Messing with crazy bigots is an excellent way of catching Sith attention. It'd be best if we leave."

Pulling her in the direction of the bend they were heading for, Rhyska threw one last look over her shoulder at the small minded little man. She wished for one brief moment that an altercation had broken out, just so that she could have pistol whipped and robbed the old fart.

"Why do I get the feeling you aren't thinking nice thoughts?"

"Because I'm not," Rhyska admitted. "For a core-like world, this place is completely backwards! Of all the places to crash on we had to crash here. I'd rather be stuck on a jungle moon. At least there, I could eat whatever annoyed me."

Carth laughed. "He's kind of old, so he'd be pretty tough to eat."

"Nothing barbequed tastes bad," Rhyska insisted. "The more burnt the better. Then everything tastes like sauce!"

Carth shook his head. "Lady, you scare me!"

A harsh voice stopped them in their tracks, "Halt!"

Startled, Rhyska looked to the right of her and found a Sith trooper arguing with a bounty hunter.

"I work in the Lower City, sithspawn!" the human bounty hunter hollered.

"No papers---No elevator," The Sith trooper replied. "Unless you've got papers or are escorting a Sith patrol through into the Under City you're out of luck. Now back the hell away!"

The bounty hunter cursed at the Sith and gestured rudely before stomping away.

The Sith trooper looked in their direction and sounding thoroughly aggravated he spat, "Move along!"

"Don't need to tell me twice," Carth said draping an arm over her shoulder. Walking past the Sith trooper, they found themselves on a vast walkway. Protocol droids puttered around and Sith troopers boarded and disembarked from shuttles on the landing pads. Open sky bordered both sides of the walkway and there at the end of it all, was the military base.

* * *

**Author Note:** Feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	6. After Hours Excursions

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**After Hours Excursions

* * *

**

Night had fallen by the time they had found a place to eat dinner. Rhyska had insisted upon it. Carth claimed he didn't need food, but she wasn't having any of it.

"You need to eat. Going to this party means drinking a few drinks and I've already dragged you back to the apartment once. You need food in your system to keep you from passing out."

Carth had a hard time arguing that one. The Sith trooper that guarded the elevators had practically chased them from walkway leading to the base. However, playing a dumb off worlder had its perks. The Sith were well aware of Tarisian temperament, towards both the Sith and the off worlders stranded on their world. They made nothing easy for either. The trooper had sent them off with a warning and none the wiser of who he had just let go.

Being so close to both the base and the elevators had lit a fire under Carth, who was suddenly in a big hurry to get to Yun's party.

"We were right there," griped Carth as he pushed his food around.

"Yeah, well, we'll be there real soon," Rhyska promised as she shoveled more food into her mouth. Between bites she tried to talk. "You---should---eat---surmthn'."

Carth looked at her oddly and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't quite catch that. You seem to have something in your mouth."

Tarisian food consisted of seafood and imported food from nearby worlds. As a world covered with massive skyscrapers, farming was out of the question. Vegetables grown from hydroponics scrapers in various cities were as expensive as some fine wines. After Carth's comment, Rhyska flung a goopy, squid-like mass at him. It plopped onto his plate with a squish. Looking quite horrified, he hissed, "What the hell is that?"

"Food," Rhyska replied. "As to what I said before, you should eat something. Next few hours could get busy. I don't know if we'll have time for food later."

Carth carefully removed the squishy blob from his plate and asked, "So, we're just going straight to his place? We aren't even going to stop back at the apartment for some gear or something?"

"We'll pick up everything we need on the way."

"All the shops are closing," Carth said not quite comprehending how they were going to pick up anything this time of night.

Rhyska just waved him off the conversation, "Leave that to me. Just you run defense between me and Yun. That's your job."

"Right." Carth watched her finish off her plate. She wasn't tiny by human standards. She wasn't tall either. He still towered over her by half a foot, but he was surprised at the amount of food she could pack away. He was also not quite so convinced at her "Oh, I'll take care of that_"_ comment. He could feel it in his bones that she was going to pillage that apartment complex. Well, if they were all Sith, he'd be all right with that. His ability to forgive and forget where the Sith were concerned was non-existent. If she planned on robbing them blind, he wasn't going to razz her about it.

"Well, I'm telling you I'm just not that hungry." Carth glanced distastefully at his food. "I've eaten about as much of this stuff as I can take."

"Not your thing, hmmm…" Rhyska grabbed a glass of water and downed it's contents.

"Goop that has no recognizable shape is somewhat unappetizing. No offense to them, but that just looks…"

"Gross?" Rhyska filled in.

"That works," Carth said with a nod. Pushing his plate away, he asked, "So when's this guy's party going to start?

Standing up, Rhyska dropped some credits on the table and pulled out her data pad. "About an hour and a half ago."

"What?" Carth exclaimed as he pulled her out the door. "Why the hell didn't you say so before?"

"Cause I wanted to be a little bit late," Rhyska said, pulling out of his grip. "They'll have started drinking long before we arrive. Which means it won't be long before they all start kissing the floor. Besides, I don't want to seem too overeager and I really don't want Yun lucid or coordinated while I'm with him."

Carth found he couldn't really argue that point either. So instead, he asked, "Which building is it then?"

Rhyska pointed to the one farthest from them, near the edge of the promenade. They began walking and Carth suddenly felt nervous. He had been fighting the Sith for a year or two now and he had imagined all sorts of scenarios. However, crashing a party and rubbing elbows with the enemy had never crossed his mind. Rhyska, on the other hand, wore an unfathomable look. She walked along side him in silence. All she did was breathe, but the look in her eyes said she was far away. Carth could only assume she was mentally prepping herself for the events to come.

_---------------_

The apartment complex Yun Genda lived in seemed to have been requisitioned to a good portion of the Sith occupation force. The entire first level seemed to be having a party. Heading for the inner elevator, they went up to the fifth floor to find much of the same there. Every apartment door was left wide open and people were partying up and down the hall way. Some of them were still in their uniforms or at least _most_ of their uniforms. The erratic beat of a techno mix pulsated through the walls and quaked beneath their feet. The smell of liquor and Tarisian ale saturated the air. Carth looked noticeably uncomfortable. Rhyska hoped he wouldn't look like that when they got to Yun's place. She needed him there to distract everybody else. She didn't want him to get kicked out for being a downer.

They had just reached the apartment Yun had marked as his on her data pad when an off duty Sith passed them with a case of Tarisian Ale. Yun came to the archway of the open door and grabbed a couple of bottles from the trooper when he spotted her.

"Hey, you made it! I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show. The party's in full swing. Come on in." When Yun had spotted her, all he had seen was Rhyska. When he'd noticed Carth behind her, his smile noticeably dimmed.

"I hope you don't mind that I brought a friend," Rhyska said flirtatiously. Leaning in close she whispered in his ear, "Happen to know any girls that could keep him company?"

Yun's smile brightened again, happy that Rhyska had disassociated herself from the man in the very orange jacket. He was about to wave someone over when the brunette from the cantina last night attached herself to Carth and began hanging all over him.

"Say," Sarna said, trying to get her voice to carry over the music. "I was just thinking of you. The mercenary from the cantina, right?"

Carth flashed Sarna a durasteel smile. "Great memory you've got there, beautiful!" Sarna handed Carth a glass of ale and snuggled up to him.

Yun handed Rhyska a glass and babbled excitedly, "Have you tried this stuff yet? It's Taris' prime ale and the reason I take back everything bad I ever said about this planet."

Sarna giggled as she ran a hand across Carth's jacket and glanced at Yun. "Take it easy on the ale, Yun. If you keep pushing it on everyone, we'll all be waking up on your floor in the morning with a hangover the size of a small moon."

"So what?" Yun draped an arm around Rhyska's shoulder. "It's not like we've got a shift tomorrow. Come on everybody! Drink up and party!"

"Well, if we're gonna end up passed out on the floor. It's best if we do some dancing now!" Rhyska pulled Yun to the middle of the room where mass of other people were dancing. Carth lost sight of her amongst the press of bodies and found himself in something of a predicament. Sarna was more than a little bit drunk and a great deal more aggressive. She advanced on Carth until he'd been forced to sit on one of the few couches in the room. She had all but crawled onto his lap and straddled him before she began kissing him. He'd joked about how far Rhyska would be willing to go for their mission. Now he had to ask himself the same question. Only Sarna wasn't in the mood for talking. He couldn't see anything in the room, just the woman in front of him, up close and personal. He'd been a little surprised when he'd seen her there. Her russet hair was loose about her face and she wore an emerald mini sheath dress wore with knee high boots. She was certainly dressed for a party. The bartender at the cantina wasn't wrong about her being easy though. Her intentions were clear enough.

At first, Carth had no idea what he was going to do and then, he thought to himself, _"What the hell?"_

Settling his hands on her hips, he kissed her back. Sarna moaned against his mouth and tangled a hand in his hair as the other slowly unzipped his jacket. It should have been simple, but somehow, it just wasn't. He didn't know how those special operatives the Republic had, did what they did. Since his wife had perished on Telos, he hadn't seriously considered another woman. There was the occasional one night stand, flings that meant nothing for him or the lady involved. It was physical, the need to slake the lust. Of course, attraction was a factor in that need and Sarna was not a scow. She was quite pretty…for a Sith.

"_Maybe that what's leaving a bitter taste in my mouth,"_ Carth thought as he continued kissing Sarna. The more he kissed her, the more he was convinced that it had less to do with her being a Sith and more to do with the fact that she tasted like bitter ale. The more Carth kissed her, the worse it got. She was also becoming increasingly insistent and he wasn't about to have sex right here on this couch with a whole room of people watching. Although from the corner of his eye he spotted several dark shapes in the corner of the room, doing just that. It wasn't just Sarna. These people seemed desperate, frenzied even. He needed Sarna to stop, but if he didn't keep her with him somehow, someone else might come along and make things difficult. So, Carth did the only thing he could think of. He pulled away and whispered, "How's about another drink of that ale?"

"Mmm… think I've already had too much. Head's spinning," Sarna pieced together slowly. Her eyes were half closed and drowsy, but she managed a lazy smile for him.

"_She's good and drunk. It won't be long before she passes out." _Brushing back stray tendrils of hair from her face, he cajoled, "Oh, I think you can manage a drink or two. Besides, I'm a little thirsty myself."

Sarna chuckled and awkwardly snagged a bottle of ale from a passerby and took a long drag from it before offering it to Carth.

He took in some ale and pulled Sarna close for a kiss, surprising her by letting the ale flow into her mouth. Sarna's eyes widened with surprise and pleasure as she drank it down. Her eyes closed and she kissed him. In between kisses, Carth would ply her with swigs of ale until finally she pulled away, gasping for breath. He watched her eyelashes flutter and still, felt her breathing become deep and even. Carth gently pulled her to him, resting her head on his shoulder. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard her soft snores reached his ears. Keeping Sarna close to him, Carth began scanning the room for Rhyska.

The room was dark enough that the people moving around the room and dancing in the middle were like faceless shadows and wraiths. The music was giving Carth a headache, or perhaps it was the ale. He'd only had one glass, but Sarna had drunk more than enough that their kissing made him very aware of his hangover from this morning. Carth gave up hope of finding Rhyska in this mess. She would have to fend for herself. Thinking of Rhyska reminded him of when they were in the escape pod together. With Sarna so close to him, he couldn't help but compare the two. He still couldn't place the scent of Rhyska's hair, but Sarna smelled of sweat and ale. It was a sickly sweet combination that reminded Carth of something that had gone rotten.

He was still contemplating the differences of scents when the familiar scent in question drifted by. Carth scanned the room but saw no sign of Rhyska. There was a room full of Sith, but no one else…

_---------------_

Rhyska was beginning to question her common sense at coming to this party and thinking she could slip away with a stealth unit. It had taken some fancy moves to extricate herself from Yun and his wandering hands, but with the excuse of going to the refresher, anyone's refresher, she had vanished with the promise of returning. Still, it was taking some time to walk around the twitching mob inside the apartment. She had even decided to take the long way around just so she could see how Carth was faring. What she saw stopped her dead in her tracks and almost got her into trouble. She had to do some quick stepping to get out the path of two partygoers to keep them from disrupting her stealth unit.

"_How far are you willing to go? Hmph! Interesting question he asks,"_ Rhyska thought to herself as she found him sitting comfortably on a sofa with Sarna straddling him. His hands kept her against him as he kissed her deeply. Sarna looked like she had a tough time keeping up with him. She rolled her eyes, half disgusted and half frustrated for working so damn hard to get them into the Under City. Rhyska walked past the two of them irritated, but mollified by thought of looting and pillaging the complex.

She neatly escaped that level and traveled to several other floors. Working as quickly as she could under the invisible camouflage, she pilfered two rucksacks and began tossing med packs, a small collection of stims, the odd grenade, recovered blasters, a vibroblade, a combat suit, and even some spare parts and computer spikes. She was on the sixth level when she found the rucksacks were starting to get full. Splicing into a droid cleaning and storage center she unloaded the rucksacks and sifted through the items to make more room in the packs. If things went well, she and Carth would be heading into the Under City tonight.

Leaving the rucksacks and the vibroblade in the storage unit, she spliced the door closed and preceded to loot this floor before returning to Yun's apartment and party central.

Rhyska found it odd to find so many doors left wide open. Their belongings just there for the taking, but then the Sith were remarkably arrogant. Probably didn't think anyone would be crazy enough to try. A devious smile quirked her lips as she thought, _"Until me, that is."_ Rhyska couldn't help but chuckle to herself. Then she shut the hell up and reminded herself sternly that disembodied chuckles ruined the effect of a perfectly good stealth unit.

She was just about done with the sixth floor when she ran into a locked door. Cocking her head Rhyska looked at the door and wondered if she should chance it. She had scored fabulously on gear thanks to the Sith and their open door policy. She had tucked more than a few credits into her pouch and belt, so she wasn't hurting for money either, but a strange need to see what was behind the locked door pushed her forward. Before she knew it she had spliced the door open and found a man cowering in his bed.

"Blast!" the man cried. Stumbling off the bed he sputtered to himself, "I knew it! I should have left when I had the chance! I'm a dead man!"

Rhyska shut off her stealth unit and quickly locked the doors behind her. Looking at the man, she hissed, "Shut up! Do you know how many Sith are out there?"

"What does it matter?" The man exclaimed loudly, his voice carrying. "You're going to kill me anyway!"

"What?" Rhyska kept an eye on the crazed man in front of her all the while feeling for a light switch to better see what he was freaking about.

The man squawked as light flooded the room, temporarily blinding him. Rhyska walked over to him, blaster at the ready. Pointing it at him, she said in a quiet and serious voice, "You can talk. I'd prefer it if you whisper, but if you keep screaming, this conversation is going to end. Badly..."

Up close the man was as skinny as a pole, all elbows and knees. He looked young, or at least younger than her. He stank of fear and bore all the edgy nervousness that marked him for prey. He looked like he could use a shave and a hair cut. The scraggly looking hair and beard long since having passed the adorably scruffy stage and entered into the realm of downright laziness or paranoia.

"Please!" The man begged, his eyes watering. "Please don't hurt me! You don't have to kill me. I'll have Davik's money if he…if he just gives me a little more time. Please! I don't want to die!"

Looking around the room wildly, he fished some credits from the inside of his pants, making Rhyska cringe. "Here, I've got fifty credits on me. That's all I got. It's yours!" He exclaimed, trying to push the credits on her. "Just don't tell Davik where I'm hiding, okay? Please! I'm begging you!"

Waving the credits away, she asked exasperated, "What are you babbling about?"

The man blinked. Still holding on to his fifty credits, he asked slowly, "You mean you're not here to kill me?"

"Uh, no," Rhyska said. On a less serious note, she pointed to the credits he had clutched in his hands, "Please, put away your crotch credits. I'm not hurting that bad."

A look of pure relief blossomed on his face. "I thought you were one of Davik's bounty hunters," he said by way of explanation. "But, if you're not here to kill me, what do you want?"

"What's your name, kid?"

Caught off guard by the question, he sat down heavily on the bed and answered, "Largo. My name's Largo."

"Well, Largo. I'm Rhyska, nice to meet you by the way." She scanned the room for a clean-ish chair to sit on while she chatted with Largo. "Maybe I can help you out with your problem with Davik."

Largo's face fell as he replied, "I don't think anyone can help me. I owe Davik money and I was late with the payments so he went to Zax in the bounty office and put a price on my head."

"Swoop racing," Largo admitted guiltily. "I've been hiding here ever since. Sooner or later, someone will find me. Unless I somehow come up with the two hundred credits, I'm a dead man."

"You borrowed money from a crime lord to bet on swoop racing?" Rhyska asked curiously. "Aren't those races fixed?"

"Well, I was winning," Largo began sheepishly. "I'd picked out the winner so many times. I didn't think I could go wrong. Then, of course I did. I lost and then I bet on another and another. I just kept on betting until everything in my account had dried up and then I had nothing. I was so sure that the Beks were going to sweep the Vulkars! I thought that borrowing money from Davik would solve everything. I thought I could make back all the money I lost and still have enough to pay him back."

"Let me guess," Rhyska said sagely. "You lost."

"Man, did I ever! I paid him back almost everything I owed him, but then this stupid blockade happened and suddenly all these blasted Sith were running around." Largo punched his mattress and cursed, "I can't get anything done. I can't even leave my apartment to find a better job. I only owe two hundred credits more, but this blockade is making Davik antsy. He's not able to make any of his usual runs so he's squeezing the locals dry!"

"That's a bummer," Rhyska murmured. "So, if I understand you correctly, Taris is Davik's old stomping ground, huh?"

"Yeah, he's a local," Largo replied. "He could have set his base up anywhere, but he chose Taris. I guess whoever runs the Exchange figured it wasn't a bad idea. What with the swoop race season opening being here and Davik already having made a name for himself around these parts."

"Hmmm…" Rhyska considered that. "Thanks, that helps." Counting out two hundred credits, she tossed them on the bed next to Largo, "Here you go."

Eyes bugging out of his head, he exclaimed, "Two hundred credits!" Thank you! You've saved my life! I can't believe this! Why would you help me?"

"Well, let's just pretend that you _never_ saw me, _never_ spoke to me," Rhyska said with a small smile. "While you're at it, you might want to pay Davik back as soon as you can and avoid the Sith downstairs tomorrow, if you get my drift. They are passing out drunk all over the place downstairs and they are going to be suffering from some wicked hangovers tomorrow. They aren't going to be friendly. Especially when they find out they've misplaced a credit or two. Oh, and no more gambling. You don't want a repeat of this little escapade, do you?"

Largo laughed nervously, but happily. "Lady, whatever you want, you got!"

Largo scooped up all two hundred credits and ran to the refresher. "Yes," Rhyska said aloud. "Please, shower and shave! It certainly won't hurt you!"

Scanning the room, she noticed a bag lying carelessly by a sofa. Walking over to it, she shamelessly fleeced Largo for 16 credits and a medpack. Not waiting for Largo to reappear, she reactivated her stealth unit and left his apartment.

When Largo came out of the refresher, scrubbed clean, freshly shaved, and wearing the first set of clean clothes he had worn in days, he wasn't surprised to find her gone. She had blown in like a tempest, there one minute and gone the next. In the brief time he had spent with her, Largo had come to view her as something of an impish angel. Dark eyes were the most vivid image he could recall of her. An expression of wicked mischief dancing about, veiling the hint of compassion that lay beneath.

Largo fully expected to die, had counted on it. Davik always got what he wanted and his patience with him had ended just about the time the Sith came down to Taris. If Largo could have chosen death, she wasn't a bad way to go. He definitely preferred her over the Mandalorian Davik had hired recently. Unexpectedly, she hadn't come to deliver him to his death. She had given him exactly what he needed to avoid it and then vanished without a trace.

Minutes before, he was a broken man with the weight of the world on his shoulders and no way out. Looking out the window, he waited for the first rays of the morning sun to peak over the edge of the horizon. He sat there quietly, trying to process what had just happened, unsure of what to do now that so many options were open to him…

_---------------_

Rhyska hurried back to the droid storage unit and picked up the gear she had collected. Making her way to the elevator, she went back down to the fifth floor and tried locating the droid storage unit there.

Still in stealth mode, she spotted the doors she was looking for. Approaching them quickly, she stopped short as muffled voices and bodies shuffling around emanated from inside the storage unit. Quirking a brow, she leaned in a little closer and tried to hear what was going on in there.

There was a great deal of heavy breathing, the distinct sound of bodies moving against one another and the unmistakable noises people made when they were hurtling towards ecstasy.

"_Well, blast!"_ Rhyska cursed to herself. She couldn't hide her goods there. She'd have to find a place closer to Yun's to stash the rucksacks. Even as she turned around the sounds from the storage unit became embarrassingly louder and Rhyska couldn't help but blush. _"Well, now…There's a hell of an amusement ride going on in there."_ It only served to remind her how long it had been since she had allowed herself such gratification. _"Before Manaan," _she thought to herself. _"Before the Belly of the Beast had been shot out of the sky. Too long."_

With a sigh, she was off and down the hallway. The same punctuated sounds of bodies rubbing against one another and gasps followed her. Rhyska looked behind her and saw no one else in the hallway. As she continued on down the hall, the sounds grew closer and for a moment she thought she was hallucinating. Rhyska was certain it was due to some earlier drinks at Yun's and a marked lack of sex in her life until she realized she was headed in the direction of the sounds_. "Sounds like somebody couldn't wait to get home or for droid room to become vacant. Naughty, naughty,"_ she thought amusedly. As she rounded the corner, she came upon a couple in the middle of the hall and stopped in her tracks, her amusement vanishing.

The man had the woman pinned against the hallway. Her golden brown hair disheveled and her skirt pushed up between them. Her legs dangled helplessly in the air, he had her pinned up against the wall so high. The man Rhyska couldn't see. His head seemed to be busy somewhere in the vicinity of the woman's breasts. He was leaning into her to keep her against the wall, his left arm holding her right arm trapped behind her back. His knee kept her elevated at the juncture of her thighs, opening her to him. Rhyska didn't need a clear line of sight to know that the hand she couldn't see was busy working beneath the woman's skirt, but there was a big difference between this sex act and the one going on in the storage unit. For one, the look on woman's face was not euphoria, but terror and helplessness. Tears tracked down her face, transforming it into a mask of pain and humiliation. The second being her eyes were screwed shut, desperate to mentally leave this moment behind, even as her free hand tried to stop his invasive probing of her body.

The man raised his head from her breasts and lowered her down enough to kiss her. The woman turned her head and the man chuckled. "Now, now," he chided. "We've been through this. If you're good to me, the Sith will be good to you." The woman cried out, more tears streaming down her face as she shook her head back and forth, his assault robbing her of her voice. The Sith whispered in her ear, "No matter how much you cry, I'm not fooled. Your body wants this as much as I do." He smiled a vicious, knowing smile at the woman that made fresh tears run down her face. "The evidence of that is quite apparent to me."

Rhyska had no thoughts, she only moved. He never heard her coming. Silently thanking the makers of the stealth unit and its wonderful sound dampening qualities, she pulled her blaster out of her holster and quickly pistol whipped the back of his head. The violent contact disrupted her stealth unit, causing it to power down as he gave a sharp cry and crumpled soundlessly to the floor. The woman slid down the wall and fell to her knees in front of him. Before she could let out the screams and sobs that had no doubt built up in her, Rhyska knelt and placed a hand on her mouth and said quietly, "You will listen to every word I say. You will do exactly as I say and you will not make a sound until then, do you understand?"

The woman looked at her with watery green eyes. Rhyska had been wrong to call her a woman. She looked younger than Largo even. It pained her some to be so harsh, but Carth would kill her if she got them caught in a building full of Sith.

"I'm not doing this to cause you more pain. I'm trying to lessen it," Rhyska explained quickly, not wanting to be there if someone stumbled upon them. "I'm leaving him here and I'm leaving him alive. If you live in this building, I highly suggest you relocate to a different one and not visit any place you normally go if you don't want this prick near you again. Do you understand?"

The girl nodded, her eyes watery and face splotchy. Her voice full of tremors, she spoke softly, "I've got no place to go." Looking down at the man, she said brokenly, "I feel dirty."

"Blast it all!" Rhyska cursed under her breath. She couldn't leave the girl like this. She'd sit right next to the moron until some other Sith wandered by and assumed she'd cold cocked the idiot at her feet.

Rhyska pulled the girl hastily up to her feet. "Come on!" Putting an arm around the girl, she activated her stealth unit hoping it would keep them camouflaged the short way up to the sixth floor. Rhyska also hoped that Largo was still in his apartment, because he was about to earn every single credit she had just bestowed upon him.

_---------------_

Largo was still looking out the window when the doors of his apartment opened again.

"Angel?" Largo breathed. There she stood, a rucksack on each shoulder, a vibroblade at her belt, and a frightened girl clinging to her like her very life depended on it.

Rhyska looked at him like he was crazy, "No, Rhyska. Remember? I was just here." She pulled the girl into the apartment with her and locked the door behind them.

"Yeah," Largo stuttered. "Sorry. My head's still spinning…uh…What's wrong with her?" He pointed to the bedraggled girl who looked about the room wildly, cradling her right wrist close to her. Fresh bruises were visible on her pale skin. A sob was threatening to erupt from her small form.

"You remember when I mentioned the Sith earlier and avoiding them?"

"Yeah," Largo nodded.

"Well, I was on my way out when I saw one of the Sith partygoers assaulting this young lady," Rhyska explained. "Can we use your refresher?"

"Sure." Largo watched wide-eyed as Rhyska escorted the young woman into his refresher. When she came back out again Rhyska gave him an appraising look and informed him, "So, I've got a job for you."

"A job?"

"Yeah." Pulling out some more credits, she placed another hundred into his hand. "I need you to take her to Zelka Forn's medical facility. Get her checked out. You know, make sure she's all right. While the good doctor is looking her over, can you find her fresh clothes and under things? She's not going to want to be wearing that."

"Yeah, sure," Largo said looking back into the refresher. A look of worry crossed his face as he thought about the Sith downstairs. "Um, what happened to the guy?"

"I knocked him out. He's still downstairs," Rhyska said disgustedly. "Do you know who she is?"

Largo shook his head, "She looks familiar, but since the Sith arrived, the government has been kicking people out of their apartments trying to stay on the Sith's good side. A lot of people have been displaced if they aren't high classed enough. She could be one of them."

"Are you telling me that people are getting evicted from their homes if their status isn't high enough?"

Largo nodded sheepishly.

"Your planet is so unbelievably messed up!" Rhyska said incredulously.

Largo shrugged, "Not going to get an argument from me. It's only gotten worse in the last week since the Sith have arrived."

Rhyska looked long and hard at the refresher and then she turned her gaze on Largo. "I've got places to be, so I'll be going in a minute, but before I go I need to know that you will do as I have asked. I need to know that you will get her to Zelka's and seeing as she can't come back here, can you find her someplace else to be that's safe?"

"Yeah, sure."

Rhyska's dark eyes bore into his, Largo felt a strange feeling overtake him as her eyes went black. A current in her voice held a strange and compelling note, "Largo, I need you to tell me that you will take her to Zelka's. I need you to tell me that you will take care of her."

Largo's eyes took on a glassy look and he answered slowly, "I'll take her to Zelka's. I'll take care of her."

Rhyska cocked her head at him and waved a hand over his face. "Hey, Largo. You all right?"

Largo shook his head and he mumbled, "Yeah, I'm just fine."

Rhyska looked at him oddly. "For a minute there, I thought you were gonna bug out on me."

"No," Largo said. "No, I couldn't do that."

There was a loud dropping sound from the refresher and Rhyska and Largo both found themselves crowding in on the small space. The girl sat on the floor. Her face hot and eyes red from crying, she looked at them unseeing. Rhyska sighed sadly and helped her up. Largo tried to help, but the girl cringed from him. She clung to Rhyska as she was steered to a chair in the apartment.

Rhyska realized had been gone from the party for quite some time. She also knew Carth was not going to be happy, but she had to make this girl understand what was going to happen in the next few minutes. Kneeling in front of her, she smoothed tousled locks of hair back behind the girl's ears and spoke gently. "What's your name?"

The girl's voice trembled, "Silla."

"Silla," Rhyska said, fervently hoping she reached this girl. "You have just suffered through one of the worst things that can happen to girl. What happened to you was not your fault." Silla began to whimper at that, tears spilling from her eyes once more.

"Silla, I need you to look at me."

Silla shook her head. "No. No, I can't."

Rhyska's lips thinned and an impatient looked flurried over her face. Closing her eyes, she drug in a deep breath and then exhaled. Her eyes opened slowly and she whispered softly, "Silla." The current in her voice enveloped the girl in front of her, coercing her to look up. As Silla's green eyes looked into hers, Rhyska's eyes changed. Her pupils eclipsed over the warm brown of her eyes. Silla's face relaxed into a far away look as Rhyska spoke, "The memory of tonight might never totally fade, but you will move past this moment. I promise you that. You can trust Largo." Rhyska nodded to the man next to her. "He will take you to a doctor and then he'll take you somewhere safe. You are going to be just fine."

Silla looked dreamily from Rhyska to Largo and repeated back to Rhyska, "I will move past this moment. I will trust Largo. I will go to the doctor with him. He will take me someplace safe."

Rhyska blinked a couple of times and gently patted Silla on the cheeks. "Are you all right?"

Silla blinked her eyes free of tears, her hands absently wiping them from her face. "I'm going to be fine."

Rhyska looked at her dubiously. It was certainly the answer she had wanted to hear, but it wasn't what she was expecting. Turning to Largo, she asked, "What the hell is in Tarisian Ale?"

"Well," Largo stuttered. "It's made from the tach glands of a simian."

"Simian?" Rhyska asked in disbelief. "Taris' prime ale is made from a primate?"

Largo shook his head as he explained, "Not so much the simian as it's gland. I think they were originally imported from Kashyyk. Then the distilleries decided to breed them here so that they could harvest the glands. The tach gland secretes a natural hallucinogenic. The refined substance is what gives the ale that extra kick. It's sort of narcotic like for people who've never had it and haven't built up an immunity to it. It also gives them a hell of a hangover. It's not uncommon for off worlders to overdose accidentally while drinking it. Normally, bartenders warn off worlders about it, but with the occupation and all. I guess they figured if a few Sith kicked it, so much the better."

"Does it usually have this kind of affect on the locals?" Rhyska asked pointing to Silla.

"Davik runs a pretty lucrative spice business," Largo replied with a shrug. "Among other favorite personal toxins, she could have just about anything running through her system."

Shaking her head, she swore, "I cannot wait to get off this spiky little mud ball! If I can just make it back to Nar Shadaa, I swear I'll kiss the landing pad. You have no idea how gross that is, but I'd do it. I really would." With a huff, she said, "I need to get going and so do you."

Largo was already up and moving. He threw a cloak around Silla, who looked up at him with a frightening amount of trust for someone who was just sexually assaulted. "Are we going to the doctor now?"

Largo smiled gently. "Yes, we're going now."

Rhyska watched the two of them with a look of uneasiness. Slipping the rucksacks over her shoulders, she informed Largo, "I'm going to turn on my stealth unit. I'll follow you down to the first floor to make sure you get out without incident."

"Thanks." With a determined nod, he promised, "I'll get her to Zelka's."

Rhyska nodded gravely at the two of them and said, "Let's go."

_---------------_

True to her word, Rhyska escorted them through the hallways, down the elevator, and out the main doors. The Sith wandering the halls around them too drunk to notice much. Those that did found themselves suddenly tripping over their own two feet before being able to harass the young couple who left the apartment complex in the early morning hours.

Rhyska hurried back to Yun's apartment. Waiting until the coast was clear, she shut off her stealth unit and dropped her rucksacks by Yun's door along with her vibroblade. Rhyska set her stealth unit on her accumulated pile of stolen property and activated it, happily watching it vanish from site. Rhyska only hoped that no one tripped on it before she got to Carth.

As Rhyska reentered the apartment, she noted that the number of people had dropped considerably, in more ways than one. Quite a few were taking up space on the floor.

Thankfully, Carth was exactly where he was when she'd last seen him. His feet were crossed and stretched out in front of him; one arm rested on the back of the couch and the other nursed a tall drink of something that wasn't Tarisian Ale. Sarna was now curled up on the couch beside him, fast asleep. A very unhappy look crossed his face when he saw her and Rhyska knew she was going to get an earful. She was just about to head in his direction when a pair of arms wrapped around her. The overwhelming stench of ale dropped on her like a shroud. Yun's voice slurred in her ear, "Where've ya bin? Gone a long time."

Rhyska grimaced and then turned to him. Sporting a flirtatious look she settled her hands on his shoulders pushing him back a few steps, "Well, it's a funny story…You see, your refresher was busy. There was a couple that seemed a little bit occupied with certain physical activities. So I went next door to find an empty refresher."

Yun seemed less interested in her story and more interested with the zipper of her swoop jacket. He tugged it down an inch or so, fascinated with the motion. Rhyska steered him in the general direction of the bar, even as a few more people left Yun's apartment for places unknown. Besides Yun, there was only one other Sith in the room still conscious. Although Rhyska recalled the old adage, "_Just because the lights are on, doesn't mean anyone's home._" She just wondered when that would apply to Yun.

"When I went next door, some other officer had puked all over the refresher. So gross!" She grabbed a half empty bottle of Tarisian ale and took a swig and offered the rest to Yun. Yun wasn't interested in the ale. Having successfully undone the zipper to her jacket, he had suddenly become bold enough to crush her to him in a desperate and sloppy kiss. Rhyska had been to plenty of bars and visited quite a few rough establishments on the edge of space where more men than women lived. It wasn't the first time a guy had felt her up or kissed her without permission. Like those other times, she didn't react. Her fellow crew members on the Beast often put a stop to that nonsense before she had the chance to get violent. They were also menacing enough to deter even the most ardent of males. Still, she wished they were here now. Not that she wanted to beat Yun to a pulp, especially with Sith crawling all over the place. She just missed her old crew mates terribly. Their presence was pure comfort. Yun's presence was more of a nuisance. He wasn't looking for love, he was looking for sex. Her lack of reaction didn't concern him quite as much as it probably should have. So he continued kissing her and remained oblivious to everything around him even as her grip on the bottle tightened. His eyes were closed and his lips and tongue moved against hers, his hands roving over her body. Rhyska watched him through narrowed eyes. Yun was in his own little dream world. A soft thump on the ground brought her attention to the only other Sith in the room who had finally retired for the night. She heard movement behind Yun as she was pushed back against the table. She saw a flash of orange and suddenly Yun was yanked back.

"Hey!" Yun slurred.

Carth's fist shot out and caught him in a right hook. Yun was unconscious before he even hit the floor.

Rhyska watched the exchange, a little tense. Carth glared angrily at her and demanded, "Where the hell have you been? You were the one who said we needed to get to this party and then poof! You are no where to be found and I get stuck babysitting all these idiots!" Sweeping his hand across the room at all the unconscious drunks before his gaze landed on Sarna, causing him to shudder.

He looked back at Rhyska and met her sheepish smile. "Hold up a sec," she said as she took a swig of the bottle she held and gargled it. Spitting it out on the floor unapologetically, she hacked out, "Gross!"

Carth was shaking his head. Cursing her and the situation, Rhyska didn't doubt. "I'll explain what I was doing later. Right now, let's get us some uniforms."

Rolling his eyes irritably, he complied nonetheless. They quickly searched the room and easily found two Sith uniforms that suited their needs. Rhyska happily removed any credits she had found, while Carth waited for her. He watched her, pissed as hell, as she looted the unconscious forms of the people around them, until he said flatly, "It'll be dawn shortly. We need to get out of here."

Rhyska nodded and they walked out of Yun's apartment. Carth shot her another irritable look when she reached down to deactivate her stealth unit to uncover her cache.

The look he wore went from irritated to incredulous as he gasped, "Did you rob the whole building while you were gone?"

"Shut up," Rhyska hissed as she tossed him a rucksack. Tucking her Sith uniform into the bag, she watched as Carth did the same. They both left the apartment complex as quickly and as quietly as they could. Carth didn't speak to her again till they arrived at another nearby complex and used the droid storage unit on the first floor to change into their borrowed Sith Uniforms.

"Never thought I'd wear one of these, ever," Carth muttered, his helmet modifying his voice slightly.

"As they say," Rhyska said, equally surprised by the strange sound of her own voice. "There's a first time for everything. Sure hope this works."

"It had better," Carth growled as they walked the long distance to the elevator.

* * *

**Author Note:** Big Thanks to BrynNevan and VaguelyFamiliar for all their hard work on this difficult chapter and to all the wonderful people who have enjoyed the story so far. As always, feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing :) 


	7. Lower City Blues

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**Lower City Blues

* * *

**

With the help of the Sith uniforms, Rhyska and Carth traveled down into the Lower City unhindered. The Sith guarding the elevator was none the wiser and had even given them a word of warning about the Lower City. 

"Going down to the Lower City, huh? That's rough," he said sympathetically. "I heard there's a big swoop gang war going on down there."

"Swoop gangs, huh?" Carth had asked.

"Yeah, watch your backs down there," the Sith advised. "They've been taking pot shots at pretty much everything that moves. The higher ups really should send a regiment down there and sweep the Lower City clean. It would make life a whole lot simpler if they did."

"One problem at a time," Rhyska stated. "Thanks for the heads up."

"Good hunting," the Sith replied as they vanished down into the Lower City.

The elevator went down a great distance at an incredible speed. Rhyska was surprised that anyone could live like this, stations of people separated by couple hundred feet of permacrete and an elevator. The rich on top, the poor trapped in the middle, and the damned at ground zero.

"This world is so flaming stupid," Rhyska muttered mostly to herself.

"It's not unlike Coruscant," Carth said quietly. "Of course the population there is mostly non humans and it's a core world. It's supposed to be the center of trade and culture in the galaxy."

Rhyska turned to him, wishing she could take the stupid Sith helmet off because it badly impaired her peripheral vision. "Well, it's the reverse here and these poor suckers are being taken advantage of."

"They chose to stay," Carth said flatly. "If a person wants out of a situation bad enough, they'll find a way. While it's pretty obvious that life on Taris isn't a picnic on Alderaan, the people here don't seem terribly concerned about it."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Rhyska muttered grudgingly.

"Hold the elevator! Did the world stop spinning?" Carth asked sarcastically. "No wonder the Sith have such a high enlistment rate. These helmets are magical! I could have sworn you said I was right."

"You know what?" Rhyska hissed. "You can take your magical helmet and shove it where the sun doesn't shine!"

Carth grunted. "Think I'll pass."

Shaking her head, Rhyska muttered, "Whatever!" A few moments later, the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Both she and Carth walked out slowly, weapons at the ready.

The Lower City was smoke and shadow, only the walkway lights provided a soft illumination. The path to the elevator split into three paths. Straight ahead was a pathway to a Lower City apartment complex. The path that cut across seemed to be the main walkway through the Lower City. Everywhere she looked, there was garbage and muck. From the corner of Rhyska's eye, large insects and even larger rodents scurried for cover. She had been to some pretty foul places in her travels, but Lower City Taris had a scenery and aroma all its own. Her eyes picked up blaster scoring along the permacrete walkway and up the walls.

"This place looks like a disaster zone," Rhyska said in a low voice.

"War zone," Carth corrected in an equally quiet voice. "Let's not attract any undue attention if we can manage it."

Rhyska turned her head slowly towards him. "Undue attention? Have you looked at what you're wearing?"

Looking down at himself, Carth cursed softly and then amended, "How about we find someplace to change? At least we'll be able to blend in a bit better then."

"Sure, whatever you say," Rhyska muttered.

As they neared the intersection of the walkway, three rough looking characters ran past from the right side of the walkway and straight into the left.

Rhyska wanted to scoot up a little closer to see what was going on, but Carth pulled her up against the wall to keep her from the gangsters' line of site. Rhyska peeked down to the right of the walkway, the direction that the gangsters had come from, and noticed that it really did look like a war zone. Blaster scoring was everywhere. Trash and debris littered the walkway. From where she stood, she had a clear view of a dead Twi'lek on the ground next to a mangled swoop bike. At the end of the walkway she saw two thugs standing guard at a doorway. _Maybe that's a gang base?_ The notion of it bounced around in her mind for a moment until loud and hostile voices tore her attention back to the gangsters.

From around the corner they watched as two groups of gangsters threw down the proverbial gauntlet.

The group that came running in from the right hollered at a Twi'lek on the opposing group. "The Beks ain't nothing but a bunch a koochoos! Following some old cripple. Weak! The Vulkars are the baddest!"

The Twi'lek belonging to the Bek gang spat an acid reply, "Baddest? More like bottom feeding kungsuckers! How's about you shut the hell up and bring it! Come on over and we'll show you who's the baddest!"

There were three on each side, but the Vulkar gangsters overpowered the Beks early on. The Beks were armed with blasters, but the Vulkars were armed with stun batons and blasters. It didn't help that they wore better armor. The Vulkar with the stun baton dodged his way through the blaster shots and easily stunned two of the Beks. They were twitching on the ground as soon as the baton made a solid physical connection. The third member was taken down by blaster fire. Carth watched from over Rhyska's head as the Vulkars finished off the incapacitated Bek gang members with a hail of blaster fire.

One of the Vulkars began looting the corpses while the other two crowed about their victory.

Rhyska's grip on her vibroblade tightened and Carth pulled both his blasters out. Rhyska fished for a grenade in her little pouch to even the odds, when suddenly Carth smacked her hand with his blaster. "No grenades!"

Because of the Sith helmet on her head he wasn't able to see her stick her tongue out at him, but he certainly heard the raspberry she blew. So did the Vulkars.

The looter stood and pointed at Rhyska in her Sith suit and cried, "Check it out, fresh meat!"

The other two Vulkars turned around and smiled nastily. "Yeah, Sith… Even better!"

Rhyska gripped her vibroblade in one hand and reached for her bootknife with the other. She launched herself towards the closest Vulkar. He swung his blaster out and aimed. Rhyska dodged and smacked the thug's firing arm with the flat of her blade. In the blink of an eye she slashed her boot knife across the thug's neck, his eyes grew wide. Clutching his neck, he fell back with a gurgle. Rhyska pivoted and sidestepped the Vulkar behind him with the stun baton.

Meanwhile, Carth proved himself quite the marksman outside the cockpit. With blasters in hand, quick reflexes, and deadly aim he caught the Vulkar closest to him with a shot to the knee, crippling him and sending him to the ground with a howl. A couple more well placed blasts sent him flying backwards onto the walkway, silencing his cries.

He turned his attention to Rhyska and the Vulkar she was dueling with. Carth watched as she danced around the bruiser and then spun away. She raised her vibroblade high and brought it down against his stun baton. It crackled with energy as the Vulkar tried to use brute strength to force her blade back. Reinforcing her blade with her dagger, she shoved the thug back with a strength that belied her size. The Vulkar staggered back, snarling, and jabbed the stun baton at her. Deftly avoiding the baton, Rhyska came in close and raised her knee sharply into his groin. The Vulkar's face twisted in pain as he shrieked in agony. Rhyska jumped back and was about to cut him down when bolts of blaster fire finished him off. Spinning about, she glared at Carth. He wore a grim expression on his face as he stared at the dead Vulkar.

"I had him."

"Yeah, by the balls and everything," Carth said sarcastically. "Tell me, can I always expect you to fight dirty?"

Pulling the Sith helmet off of her head she looked right at him and said, "Look, you're pissed about the stupid party. I get that and you know what? I'm sorry. There, I said it and strangely enough, I meant it. I am sorry. I had meant to get there sooner, but as you might have noticed when we entered the building, Yun wasn't the only one throwing a party. I had a situation I needed to take care of. I'm sorry if that left you with surrounded by a bunch of unfriendlies. Course, when last I saw you sucking face with Sarna, you seemed to be just fine."

Carth pulled off his own helmet and demanded, "What the hell kind of an apology is that? Sorry I left you, but hey, you were sucking face with Sarna so it's okay? That woman was all over me!"

"Why are you complaining? Are you gay or something?" Rhyska scoffed. Shaking her head at him, she crouched down and began looting the corpses.

Face flushing, Carth said forcefully, "Listen, sister! I am a ladies' man, not a man's man!"

"Then why are you bitching? Big deal, so you were "forced" to kiss Sarna." Making a face as she stood, she muttered, "I had to kiss Yun!"

"Do we have to stop every single time just so you can loot the bodies? Just what the hell is it with you and grenades?" Carth asked loudly. "We are trying to remain inconspicuous and the first thing I see you do is reach for a grenade. If I left it to you, you'd be chucking explosives left and right!"

Rhyska looked at him and then said wryly, "Right, because hollering at me in the middle of this walkway is so inconspicuous…"

Taking a deep breath and counting to five, he looked at Rhyska and said, "Let's go into this apartment complex and get out of these uniforms."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n," Rhyska said with a snappy salute. She walked off into the apartment complex, leaving Carth to stand alone in the walkway wanting to throttle her.

---------------

Entering into the filthy hallway of the apartment complex, Rhyska instinctively headed to the left. She could hear voices nearby, not the friendly kind either.

Carth came up behind her, still pissed, but he had his blasters ready. They surprised the two gang members out in the hallway, dispatching them quickly and quietly. Splicing into a nearby apartment, they found it already occupied by some Vulkar thugs. She and Carth cut and blasted their way in. When it was over, Rhyska sealed the apartment and ransacked the place for useful items. Carth disappeared into the refresher and changed out of the Sith uniform. When he stepped out he was wearing his street clothes, complete with orange jacket and surly expression.

Rhyska cocked an eyebrow and tossed the goods she had found in her rucksack. "Are you sure you want to be running around the Lower City without body armor? Not that it bothers me or anything. With that jacket, they'll gun for you before they ever see me."

Carth narrowed his gaze at her and made a rude gesture.

"Like you could ever get so lucky," Rhyska scoffed. Grabbing her rucksack, she headed into the refresher and changed. She was glad to be out of the Sith uniform. Something about the way it fit, especially the helmet, was claustrophobic. She slipped back into her black body armor and lucky boots. If she could have gotten away with it, she'd have put on the sheer halter dress and swoop jacket. Unfortunately, if their surroundings were any indication, that was just a bad idea. So she pulled on a ballistic vest instead. She put on her holster and utility belt and then stared at the mess that was her hair. She really hated helmets. It took her slightly longer to tame the rat's nest that had become her hair. In the end, she put it into a pony tail and forgot about it.

She had just slipped her blaster into its holster and hooked her vibroblade to her belt when she stepped out of the refresher to find that Carth had changed into a combat suit.

He looked at her as though daring her to say something, she merely quirked a brow and went about her business. She folded up the Sith uniforms and collapsed the helmets into the rucksack. She tucked all the available grenades into her side pouch and then sifted through the rucksack once more, counting out the medpacks. Looking up at Carth she asked, "Got any medpacks on you?"

"Why do you ask?" Carth grouched.

A vein at her temple began to throb and her face flushed with irritation. Flinging two medpacks at him, she hissed, "No flaming reason!" Slinging her rucksack on to her back, she informed him, "I'm going to scout around the complex. You coming or staying?"

"Is that code for _I'm going to filch from the surrounding area_? If it is, I'm out," Carth coldly replied. "I'm not in the habit of robbing people."

Rhyska went white with anger and she sputtered, "Really? Yet I suspect you'd have no problems using those medpacks if push came to shove. You also seemed to handle that extra blaster at your side pretty well against those gangsters back there. I wonder if you'd have done as well with just your own. Never mind that we had to steal the uniforms to get our foot through the elevator door. I suppose I'll just pretend you were bitching up a storm when I filched from our good friend Yun and his fellow junior officers."

"They were Sith," Carth hissed. "I don't give a damn about them!"

"Well, how very selective of you," Rhyska sneered.

"You are such a shrill!" Carth exclaimed, anger causing his voice to rise.

"Yeah, I am," Rhyska replied. "I'm a shrill and so what? I haven't killed anyone that wasn't aiming to do me in first. If I'm stealing, it's because a certain someone has made it perfectly clear that he'd rather move at the speed of light rather than wait for a break. Besides, the only quick credit you can make is in the bounty office which we haven't been able to get to until we _stole_ the uniforms!"

Carth tried to cut in but Rhyska asked him coldly, "Tell me, hero, just how many credits have you got on you? I paid for lunch and dinner and I picked up the tab at the cantina. I even paid to get your clothes cleaned after you hurled all over the place!"

Walking to the door, she spliced it open and said in a quietly acid voice, "You may be the man with the plan, wanting to save the Republic by finding the missing Jedi Wonder, but let me tell you something…You wouldn't have gotten half as far if I hadn't have carried you there! So spare me your baggage, you big hypocrite!"

---------------

Rhyska let out a shaky breath and scoped out the hallway. In front of her was a floating sentry droid. It was old and rusty and couldn't function in any other way except to stay airborne. Rhyska considered the droid carefully and decided with a few quick upgrades, he could be quite useful in the next few minutes. So she plucked the rusted droid out of the air and took him to a nearby room. Recently vacated, the place was an even worse looking dump than the one she had just left Carth in. "Not that I care," she muttered under her breath. _"It's probably better this way,_" she told herself. "_He can go on and find Baz all on his own and I'll score a ride off this planet some other way."_

Of the two of them, she was certain that she was going to come out on top. Carth was too squeaky clean to do what needed to be done to get off this planet. She, on the other hand, had no qualms about that.

As she rewired and patched up the little sentry droid, upgrading his weapons, shielding, and aim she set him up to patrol the hallway with her as back up. The droid didn't make any noises because it lacked a vocabulator, but the purr from its engine was much improved over its earlier sputtering. When she finished it took to the air with ease, a blue shield activating and encompassing its form as it glided through the air. Rhyska unhooked her vibroblade from her belt and activated her stealth unit.

She walked slowly out into the hallway, the droid flying behind her in patrol mode. Using the little guy as bait made her feel a bit guilty, but she was pretty confident that his shielding would hold, if she did this right.

As expected, some gangsters were out in the hallway and as she approached them quietly, the droid beside her began firing on them. As they returned fire on the droid, Rhyska deactivated her stealth unit when she was close enough to deliver a critical hit to the Vulkar gangster closest to her. The little droid blasted the other Vulkar and Rhyska finished him off with a quick slash across his neck.

On and on it went around the complex. The ruckus she and the droid made in the hall had Vulkars pouring out of the every hole the complex had. She was certain they were all Vulkars. They all bore visible tattoos on the side of their face. If those guarded doors by the elevator were indeed the entrance to the Vulkar base, it only made sense that their members would live in a nearby complex. Rhyska deduced that pretty much everyone in this building was a Vulkar. Blast!

She and the little droid fought their own personal little war against the gangsters. She was bone weary and completely exhausted but she pushed herself to fight on. She cut and slashed and parried her way through a never ending rush of Vulkars, the little droid blasting away in quick succession. Her exhaustion weighing down on her, forcibly reminding her that despite the food she had eaten, she hadn't rested in little over a day and it was beginning to affect her, slow her down. She was shocked several times when she wasn't quick enough to avoid a Vulkar stun baton, cuts and gashes from vibroblades grazed her arms, leg, shoulder, and lower back. She was quick enough to avoid major injuries, but not quite quick enough to avoid them entirely.

Her luck had just about run out when the little droid took a final blow to the shields and erupted into a ball of fire and lightening. It's explosion taking out two of the Vulkars around it and shocking another senseless. _"There were only two more left,"_ Rhyska told herself_. "Two more and I'm home free._" She brought her vibroblade up to block the one Vulkar and pulled back just enough to kick him square in the chest and send him flying back. She just wasn't quick enough to avoid the stun baton that the other Vulkar used on her.

Rhyska fell back, her vibroblade slipping out of her grasp. She hit the floor with a thud, her nerves rioting so badly they were numb to the sensation of her crashing onto the ground. The Vulkars stood over her, just like they'd stood over those Beks on the walkway and Rhyska thought to herself, "So, this is what happens when you go angry and crazy all at the same time… You die." That grim thought was crossing her mind when suddenly blaster fire erupted from the hallway behind her and took out both of the Vulkars standing over her.

"_Great,"_ she thought to herself, _"Just great!"_

A shadow fell over her, accentuating her fading sight. All she saw before darkness claimed her were a pair of very worried brown eyes.

---------------

Carth had stood there in the hellhole of an apartment mad at everything. He was mad at the situation they were in. He was mad at the Sith for starting this war and at the Jedi for not finishing it. He was mad at Taris and the majority of its very messed up population. Mostly he was mad at her, because every word out of her mouth had been true. He didn't like hearing it, but he certainly couldn't deny it once it was said. They had known each other for all of two days, if that, and even though he had known from the first that she wasn't keen on the idea of finding Bastila, she had gone along with it anyway. She had helped him.

If Carth was going to be honest with himself, in the three days she had been unconscious he hadn't accomplished much. He had told himself it was because he was worried about her making it, but he hadn't stayed by her side for her sake; he had done it for his. The Sith had been everywhere after they had crashed. They had conquered Taris without firing a single shot. The destruction of the Endar Spire was demonstration enough for the Tarisian Government and they were quick to placate the Sith.

If he stayed close by, it was because he knew that wandering about so soon after the crash would only get him caught. Thinking on it, he could have just as easily found that doctor in the Upper City and let him deal with her, but he didn't. As much as Carth found himself distrusting people, he also didn't want to be alone. He knew that he was going to need help searching for Bastila and so he hoped and prayed that the only other person to escape the Endar Spire wouldn't leave him all by himself with the weight of the Republic on his shoulders.

From the very beginning, he had harped on her and her shady ways. She had never once lied about who she was and how she got things done. He couldn't even argue with her techniques, he wanted results and she got them. He had sneered at her methods and belittled her because he was angry. He was angry for sitting at that stupid party and worrying about her. That was the gist of it, the shame of it. He had known her all of two days and for some completely ridiculous reason he worried about her like he would someone he'd known all his life. With all of her strange, larcenous ways she had somehow insinuated herself into a category he reserved for people he cared about and trusted. That category was sparse and more difficult to get into that a Hutt's good graces. Then, inexplicably, his worry had turned violent when Yun had kissed her. The most satisfying thing he had done all night was clock Yun, and he was afraid of why he had done it.

He sat down on a dilapidated mattress and tried to figure out what was wrong with him. He reasoned that his irrationality was due to lack of sleep, not enough food, too much stress, and trauma. But none of that excused his behavior towards her. She was the only ally he had on this sorry rock and he had chased her away. Carth had expected her to be long gone when the familiar sound of blaster fire reverberated down the hallway.

Getting up, he slid the door open manually just enough to look outside. Two gang members went rushing past. Eyes wide, Carth grabbed the rucksack Rhyska had left him and opened the doors. Pulling out his blasters he stepped into the hall and was met with blaster fire. Another two gangsters had arrived in time to see him ditch the apartment in which he had been hiding. Dodging their blasts, he fired multiple shots of his own, taking them down. He ran in the direction of the previous two gangsters he had seen. A firefight was ensuing, the sounds were unmistakable. He came across two more gangsters with their backs to him. They seemed to be firing on a droid not too far off. He shot them down, but not before they had destroyed the droid in a blast of fire and light, parts flying in all directions. He ran full ahead in time to see Rhyska go down. He aimed a pulse shot at one gangster sending him flying away from Rhyska's still form. The other he began riddling full of blaster holes. He swiftly reached her side and began checking her for major injuries. He didn't know how bad it was, but mostly she just looked stunned. Her eyes fluttered sightlessly until she went still. Carth wasted no time on scooping her up and taking her to the nearest open room. He lay her down on one of the beds and manually shut the doors. He had zero skill in security splicing and he hoped fervently that no one else intruded while he checked her over. He tossed her rucksack aside and removed her combat vest and checked all the cuts in her body armor. Most of it was superficial flesh wounds. But she had taken quite a few shots with the stun baton. He pulled out the med packs she gave him and injected her in the neck with a couple of shots. He was contemplating a stim boost when her eyelashes trembled against her cheeks. Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused and glassy.

"Am I dead yet?" Rhyska asked in a slow and quiet voice.

"'Fraid not, kid," Carth replied with an encouraging smile. He swept wispy strands of hair back behind her ears. "I just injected you full of kolto so you should be feeling better in a couple of minutes or so."

"Sorry, I got shot up," Rhyska whispered. "Shouldn't have run out on you."

"No," Carth said shaking his head. "I was being an ass. I was pissed about the party and I shouldn't have taken that out on you. So technically, what happened to you was my fault."

"Sure," Rhyska joked.

"Let me say it," Carth insisted. "I want to apologize to you. I guess I just don't know what to make of you sometimes. I'm used to working with soldiers and no offense, but they don't talk back. Well, not the smart ones anyway."

Cocking an eyebrow, she muttered, "Thanks."

Carth looked suddenly awkward. "Yeah, I'm not so good at this whole apology thing."

"I noticed," Rhyska said with a pained chuckle. "My head hurts."

"If you were a guy I'd buy you a drink."

"You can buy me a drink later," Rhyska insisted. "A nice tall drink of Viridian Frost." She thought dreamily of the mind numbing concoction and how much she'd like a drink right about now.

Carth grinned. "You got it. You just rest for a bit. In about an hour or so the kolto will have done its work. I'll wake you then and we'll find you that drink."

Rhyska nodded once, her eyes already closed. Carth sighed. He was relieved she wasn't dead, but irritated with himself for being so inarticulate. He moved a chair to the foot of her bed and faced the doorway. The familiarity of guard duty put him at ease. Looking around the room they were in, he noted a security crate to the back of the room surrounded by portable holo units. He was curious as to what they were for, but he'd leave that to Rhyska when she woke. Carth was more than certain that cracking it open would thrill her.

---------------

Rhyska came slowly awake sometime later to find Carth gently shaking her shoulder. "It's about time we need to be off." Rhyska sat up gingerly, stretching as she did so. Her body felt so much better after those medpack injections, but she was still tired. She hoped fervently that they didn't run up against anymore Vulkars today. She didn't know how much more her abused body could take. Getting up, she surveyed the damage to her body armor and shook her head with disgust. It wasn't the high grade stuff, but it wasn't doing her any bit of good all cut up.

"Damn," she muttered aloud. "You don't by any chance have another set of body armor, do you?"

Carth shook his head with a grin. "Sorry, only got my brilliantly orange jacket."

Rhyska returned his grin with one of her own. "I had that one coming."

"You sure did," Carth said laughingly. Nodding to the crate to the back of the room, he suggested, "There might be something worth looking at in that security crate over there."

Rhyska looked to where he nodded and walked over to the security crate. She studied the locking mechanism for a moment and noted that all of the portable hollow units were synchronized to the crate in some fashion. "Some sort of complicated trigger device," she murmured to herself. Looking up she saw a desk in the corner of the room and wandered over. Like most desks in today's age, it served the multiple purpose of a personal computer and communications center. Splicing into the personal database, Rhyska pulled up the final log the previous inhabitant had labeled Twisted Rancor Trio. Selecting the log, she quickly read through the little story of a band manager who might have met his end on Davik Kang's estate after putting together a band promising the crime lord the best entertainment on all of Taris. Pursing her lips, she looked around the apartment and couldn't help but assume that, considering the dilapidated state of things, the band manager didn't seem to have succeeded. Still, upon closer inspection of the holo units she noted that they all had the names of the band members labeled on each of them. With a sly grin, she turned on each holo in the order that the members were recruited into the band and was rewarded with the sound of the security crate deactivating and unlocking. Rhyska gave a quick thanks to the Twisted Rancors for whatever goods they left behind.

"Damn," Carth muttered. "That was fast."

"A slow thief is a dead thief," Rhyska replied sagely as she opened the crate. "Jackpot!"

Carth leaned over to look in the security crate and muttered, "You must be on good terms with Lady Luck herself."

"I don't ask why," Rhyska said as she pulled out a moss colored Echani combat suit. "I just accept what Lady Luck gives me." Looking around the crate she gushed excitedly, "Oohh! She gave me fifty credits!"

Getting up, she walked over to the refresher with her new combat suit and vanished. Carth wondered why she was acting as though he hadn't almost gotten her killed earlier before. She was as carefree now as the morning she had laughed at him on the walkway in upper Taris. How did she do that? Forgive and forget so effortlessly? He was still thinking about it when she exited the refresher. Tossing her old body armor aside she located rucksack and asked Carth, "Did you use the medpacks I gave you on my injuries?"

"Yup," Carth said briskly.

Tossing him another three medpacks, Rhyska she slipped her belt and holster back on and slung her rucksack on her back. "All right, let's go."

* * *

**Author Note:** Feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	8. Matrik and the Big Bang Theory

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**Matrik and the Big Bang Theory****

* * *

**

Rhyska found her vibroblade just outside the room they were in. She looked at the Vulkar corpses on the ground. Then she looked at Carth, who rolled his eyes and nodded. "Just ignore me. Pretend I'm not here."

Rhyska grinned and began emptying pockets and found a couple of very interesting items. "Hey, Carth!" she called out as she tossed a small cuff to him.

Carth caught it and looked at it. "Energy shield, nice."

"I've been meaning to get some of these," Rhyska said, slapping one on her right wrist. "They were too expensive though."

"Now you have one." Carth slipped on the ES cuff and asked, "Are we done here?"

"Sure, but there are a few rooms I want to check."

Carth shook his head and murmured, "Knock yourself out." He followed her from room to room wordlessly, watching her pick and choose items she deemed useful, and had restocked on medpacks, spare parts, the odd energy shield, an ion blaster and a blaster rifle by the time they had nearly completed the circle of the complex. Carth was surprised to find that some people went so far as to set mines in their own apartments to keep thieves out, not that it worked with Rhyska. Her clever fingers and slick mind seemed to know their way around demolitions as well as security splicing.

The last apartment Rhyska wanted to check out was marked as condemned. Carth frowned. "Are you sure you want to check that place out?"

"Aren't we technically staying at the only room in our complex that was slotted for renovation?"

Carth arched a brow and nodded. "I see your point."

Rhyska was splicing the doors while Carth kept a look out in the hallway. The door slid open to reveal a tall bright green Twi'lek with a heavily modified blaster pointed at them.

Rhyska laughed awkwardly and waved. "Hi!"

The Twi'lek began hollering at them in his native tongue. "Beat it! You can't come in here. This is a private apartment--my apartment!"

Rhyska showed him empty hands and responded back to him in the same language, surprising him. "Sorry! There seemed to be a lot of gangsters down here. We were just looking for a place to hide."

Taking a peek inside his apartment, she observed that his apartment looked worse than all the others they'd been to in this complex. It really must have been condemned. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing in here? This place looks abandoned and ready to fall apart."

The Twi'lek scowled at her. "Why don't you mind your own business? Exercise a little commonsense, human. If you know what's good for you, you'd turn around and go back the way you came."

Carth tapped Rhyska on the shoulder and whispered loudly, "My Twi'lek is a little fuzzy, but I'm pretty sure he wants us to go."

Rhyska ignored Carth's less than subtle attempt to get her to leave, "Are you in some sort of trouble?"

The Twi'lek eyed her long and hard. Raising his blaster in the air, he said in a less threatening manner, "If you were a bounty hunter, you wouldn't bother talking so much." He looked her up and down slowly and smiled when his gaze finally settled on her face. Behind Rhyska, Carth watched the Twi'lek sourly, wondering how they managed to get tangled up with these kinds of characters.

The Twi'lek stated, "I like the look of you, so I guess I will tell you. You'll probably find out on your own eventually anyway, What with Zax giving bounties away like candy. Or so I hear."

Rhyska walked up to the doorway of the room and leaned on the frame, "Zax? Who's Zax? That name sounds familiar."

"It should," the Twi'lek began. "That name belongs to the puffed-up Huttslug in the bounty office. My name is Matrik. And you are..?"

Rhyska smiled at him. "I'm Rhyska. The angry looking guy behind me is Carth."

Carth nodded at Matrik with a tight smile. Matrik quirked a brow at Carth and did the same.

"I am hiding here, you have deduced as much. I used to work for the Exchange doing a lot of dirty work for Davik and I killed a lot of people. When you work for the Exchange, it's a given. Half my life, I've worked for them and nothing fazed me, touched me—until last year."

Matrik shook his head. "A job went south and suddenly after all these years, I develop a conscience. It was damned inconvenient. The things I did, they haunted me. It got so bad I eventually testified in Tarisian court against some of the most powerful criminals on Taris."

Matrik concluded dryly, "My testimony put away quite a few of them, which meant I put a real kink into Exchange business. Not unexpectedly, Davik put a bounty on my head. Live retrieval not required. Tell me, little girl, why is it so much harder to do the right thing than the wrong one? If I had just kept my mouth shut, I wouldn't be in this mess."

Rhyska tilted her head and shrugged. "Everybody's got a limit; Carth over there has a really well defined one and I've got one. Haven't run into it just yet, but I'm sure it's there. You just happened to have found yours. As for doing the right thing—I don't really know. I do what feels right for me. Just like you did what felt right for you. Back home, my folks always told me that nothing worth doing was ever easy."

Matrik laughed, "On Ryloth, we have that saying as well. I've already thought of a way out of my predicament, but I can't pull it off while I'm holed up in here."

"Well, let's hear it," Rhyska urged him. "Like I said, we might be able to help you out."

"I need two things to pull my plan off. The first is an accomplice. I need someone to go to the bounty office and tell Zax that I am dead."

"That sounds easy enough," Carth muttered.

"Ridiculously so, but unfortunately that's where the second item comes in. Davik wants proof the bounty on my head was collected. He won't buy it unless he sees my body, but if I were to "die" in an explosion—one that will disintegrate my remains—then I will be free to leave this place."

Rhyska smiled slyly, "You have thought about this."

"I have had nothing but time these last few days," Matrik said wryly. "Unfortunately, I can't go wandering around or a bounty hunter is sure to notice me, especially in the Lower City. Javyar's Cantina is crawling with them. I have some demolitions experience from my days in the Exchange so I can set it all up myself, but for my plan to work I need to get my hands on a permacrete detonator."

Rhyska laughed as she fished though her grenade pouch. "Is that all? You need a permacrete detonator? I have one of those right here!"

Matrik's eyes bugged out of his head and his jaw dropped. "Really? Let me see?" Carth watched Matrik and Rhyska bond over little explosive packages as he leaned against the complex walls.

"This should do the trick," Matrik exclaimed happily. "There won't be anything left of this apartment except for rubble and some scorch marks on the wall after this baby detonates!"

"Is there anybody upstairs?" Rhyska pointing up to his ceiling.

"No, it's nothing but empty space between here and the Upper City. Exactly as the noble classes prefer," Matrik said hastily. "Now let me set this up."

Rhyska watched Matrik carefully as he set up the permacrete detonator in two separate sections of the room. Then he said excitedly, "Okay, the timer is set."

"What now?" Rhyska asked.

Matrik laughed, grabbing hold of her arm. "Now we get out of here before it blows!"

They both rushed into the hallway. Carth looked more than a little worried. "How big a detonation are we talking about?"

"Big," Matrik replied as he ran around the corner. Rhyska grabbed Carth and speedily followed Matrik.

They had just barely cleared the corner when a thunderous sound erupted from Matrik's room. The ceiling collapsed and chunks of permacrete fell down with a thud. Thick clouds of dust and debris rolled through the hallway, making them cough.

Matrik coughed hoarsely. "Now _that_ was an explosion!" Looking at Rhyska and Carth he warned them, "Don't go poking around in there. The roof might cave in on your head!"

As Rhyska looked around the corner at the ruin that was formally Matrik's hiding place, she replied, "No worries there."

"Now all that's left is for you to collect my bounty."

Rhyska lit up. "If only credits were so easy to make all of the time! Good luck, Matrik."

"Thank you both. Now I won't have to spend the rest of my life looking behind me." Matrik smiled. "Good luck to you both. I must be off. The dead shouldn't be seen wandering the streets--wouldn't want anyone to think I had faked it."

Both Rhyska and Carth watched Matrik disappear down the hall with a bounce in his step. Carth turned to Rhyska and asked, "Seriously, what is it with you and explosives?"

"I like the bang," Rhyska said simply.

After careful consideration, Carth decided that both Rhyska and Matrik belonged to a special kind of crazy. Instead of pointing it out, he smartly decided to redirect the conversation. "Matrik mentioned there was a cantina around here, somewhere. If we get a move on, I'll be able to get you that drink I owe you."

"Frost," Rhyska reminded him. "I want a tall glass of Viridian Frost."

Carth chuckled, "Right."

"Hey, Carth?"

"Yeah, what's up?"

She proceeded cautiously. "Mind if I ask you a question or two?"

"I'm all ears, beautiful," Carth teased.

Rhyska's eyes widened and she looked at Carth, not quite sure she had heard him right. Hiding her shock behind a laugh, she decided to play along. "I like the sound of that!"

"Which? The fact that I'm all ears or the beautiful part?"

She was surprised and amused to find that Carth had a sense of humor hiding behind the many layers of fleet duty and paranoia. "Carth, are you flirting with me?"

"Not really, just a habit. You'd prefer I call you something else?"

"How about my name, flyboy?"

"Try not to get your knickers in a twist over it, gorgeous."

"Say," Rhyska began. "Now that one I like. Call me that from now on."

Carth arched a brow as he regarded her. "You want me to call you, Knickers?"

"Call me Knickers and I'll start calling you Bantha turd!"

"Ooh! I'm scared now!"

"You should be," she said with mock severity. "I could do you one better and call you a Gamorrean momma's boy."

"Oh, come on!" Carth goaded her. "Don't tell me that's the best you've got! You can do better."

Rhyska pretended to think on it for a moment, before tossing out, "You want better? How about fashion taste so bad it could kill a Cannok?"

Carth feigned a shocked look and replied, "If you're referring to my jacket, I'll have you know that it's my lucky charm. It also holds extreme sentimental value."

Rhyska snickered, "A jacket like that could only be sentimental."

"Careful, Knickers--you'll hurt my feelings."

Rhyska laughed and smacked him on the arm. "You are such a pain!"

"Guilty as charged!" Carth chuckled, the tension of earlier events easing out of him. "So, you still feel like interrogating me?"

Rhyska rolled her eyes. "Good grief! It's just a few questions, you big baby!"

"All right, you've made your point. Just so you know, I prefer flyboy over baby any day." Stopping in the middle of the hallway he looked at her. "You may commence with the interrogation."

"Are you getting tetchy again?"

At that question, Carth's demeanor lost all sense of friendly teasing. "I don't bother with tetchy. I skip all that and just get straight down to pissed."

Rhyska laughed nervously. "Okay, cool your engines, flyboy! I just have a question to ask. There is no interrogation involved."

Rhyska watched as Carth nodded in understanding and then forcibly willed his body to relax. "Can I ask you something first? I've been trying to figure out just what happened on board the Spire and I can't seem to get the sequence right. There's a bunch of holes and it's just not adding up. Tell me what happened, from your point of view."

Looking confused, she thought back to when she was with Trask on the Spire. "I'm not going to be of much use to you there, Carth. I woke up on the floor with my bunkmate hollering in my ear. Everything after was just a mad dash to the bridge and escape pods. If not for him, I'd probably be dead."

"A lot of lives were wasted in the Mandalorian wars and it just bothers me to see it happen all over again. We lost the ship and a lot of good people and for what? Some slim chance that the Jedi's secret mission would miraculously save us?"

"Secret mission?"

"Yeah, the Endar Spire's mission was classified and only the Jedi were privy to the details. That's why I'm trying to figure all this out. My superiors aren't going to be happy about losing the Spire and her crew. They're going to want answers." Carth gazed at her intently as he thought on her words. "You said Trask went and woke you up, huh?

"Yeah," Rhyska nodded.

"Did you know that he was assigned to the Jedi as a liaison?"

His question set off an alarm inside of her, triggering the need for careful responses. "No, we had opposite shifts. He was just my bunkmate."

"Just your bunkmate…I happen to know that he was scheduled for duty on the bridge that shift. That's where he should have been, but instead, he went all the way down to the crew quarters and found you…which makes it especially interesting that you happen to be here now. Tell me, just what is your position with the Republic fleet anyway?"

Rhyska felt a tad bit uncomfortable with the turn this conversation was taking. He had gotten annoyed over her wanting to ask questions and now he was interrogating her. While it was mildly irritating, Rhyska knew that if she didn't answer his questions he'd fill the blanks in with whatever paranoid delusion his brain invented. So she thought to herself, "_What the hell?"_

"If you must know, I was a smuggler." Rhyska casually gauged Carth's reaction to her answer.

"A smuggler, huh?" Carth said slowly a smile curving his lips. "Now, everything makes perfect sense. That explains a lot."

"What do you mean, _that explains a lot_?"

"Never mind," Carth replied hastily. "You were saying…"

Rhyska shot him an uncertain look, but did as he asked. Confident that she had nothing to hide, she humored him even though revisiting old memories pained her. "Like I said, I was a smuggler. More specifically, I was one of the mechanics of a smuggling crew aboard the Belly of the Beast. We had a bad run and got caught. Okay, so maybe we were blown out of the sky. Anyway, the fleet found us before the authorities did."

Looking at Carth, but not quite seeing him she continued, "I was the only survivor." The memory of being in the cockpit of the ship, of conduits and terminals exploding all around her, filled her senses. The memory took hold of her, whisking her away from Taris and depositing her back to that awful day inside the Belly of the Beast. Back to the moment when the ship took a hit rocking her off her feet and sending her flying onto the deck. For a brief second she was there again, existing in that moment and the memory of it so real, she could smell the acrid scent of burning flesh and charred metal.

Carth reached out and set a comforting hand on her shoulder, bringing her back to the present and banishing the memory back to the past.

"You all right?" A concerned look warmed his eyes.

Rhyska smiled and nodded. "I'm alive."

Carth frowned at her evasive answer.

Rhyska began walking down the hall again and quickly wrapped up her story. "To make a long story short, I wasn't what you would call a voluntary recruit." Sheepishly she admitted, "It was this or prison."

Surprisingly, that drew a chuckle from Carth. "Why am I not surprised?"

"I'm just being honest," Rhyska said defensively. "Anyway, they wanted me for my knowledge about the shadier regions of the Outer Rim, Xirel and me that is. He got the same deal, although he never related his circumstances to me. We were sent to Manaan where our handler picked up Kelvin, Gadaar, Merel, and Beltren. That was about three months ago."

Carth nodded. "That was the same time the Jedi arrived on board, myself included."

"Did you really? I never saw you."

With a grin, Carth teased, "Technically, I'm an officer and you were a grunt."

That comment earned Carth another smack on the arm, to which Rhyska was rewarded with a surprised, "Ouch!"

"Anyway, how would I know that," Rhyska insisted. "I told you yesterday that most of the people I worked with didn't really like me. It wasn't a secret that I was a smuggler and they knew I didn't volunteer out of the goodness of my heart. Most of the crew didn't go out of their way to be friendly to me, much less any Jedi."

"Doesn't it strike you as an odd coincidence that a smuggler who was added to the crew last minute happens to survive?" Carth pressed.

Expressionless, Rhyska inquired, "Uh, you'd rather I hadn't?"

"Of course not! You've got nothing to prove. Not to me or anyone else. I know we wouldn't have made it this far without you, it's just…" Then he added as he massaged his arm, "You hit hard for a girl."

Rhyska looked at him and said crossly, "You motivate me." Rhyska's eyes narrowed when she realized what he was getting at. "You think _I_ had something to do with the Endar Spire getting jumped in orbit?"

"Well, no…maybe…" Looking at the expression on her face he quickly amended, "Don't get me wrong. The Jedi asked for a lot of things and transferred a lot of people. I just think convenient that one of their special requests happens to be here with me now."

Looking at him like he was crazy, Rhyska asked, "Why would the Jedi request for my transfer? I wasn't cozy with any of them. I don't even like Jedi!"

Carth shrugged as they walked towards the complex exit. "Well, that's not how it looks. For all you know, you could be connected to them in some way."

"Keep on reaching, Cannok killer," Rhyska replied archly. "Maybe by the time we get back to Republic space you'll have worked out a conspiracy theory that your superiors will buy."

"Okay, so I'm a little paranoid. I can't help it. Being extra cautious has kept me alive on more than one occasion. It's probably nothing, but I learned a long time ago not to take things at face value. Plus, I really hate surprises."

"What do you mean by surprises?" Rhyska asked as they stopped just in front of the complex exit.

"I just mean that I have to expect the unexpected."

Rhyska shook her head. "Are you always this suspicious and paranoid?"

"It's not really paranoia if everyone's after you and it's not personal. It's just the way I am." Looking a bit harried, Carth tried to change the subject. "You know, I think we've spent enough time asking questions. How about we get back to more important things? Like finding Baz."

Planting her hands on her hips she said firmly, "I consider this important."

Carth knew a losing battle when he saw one. Raising his hands up in mock defeat, he surrendered. "All right, blast it! You're as tenacious as a Kath hound!"

Carth looked at her face and knew it wouldn't be long before she was asking him questions again. He hoped they'd be too busy to talk later, but he didn't figure himself to be that lucky. "We'll talk about it," he promised, "but can we talk later?"

"I'm going to hold you to that promise," Rhyska commented sternly.

"I don't doubt it, but right now I just want to get going." Carth walked on ahead of her out of the complex and began scanning the walkway for gangsters and other unsavory characters, while she dragged behind for a bit.

Rhyska mulled over the information Carth had just rehashed with her. It distressed her and set the wheels in her head to overload.

"_Why would the Jedi specifically request me?"_ she wondered.

As far as she knew, they didn't dirty their hands with the likes of smugglers and thieves. If they requested her specifically, did they mean to transfer Beltren, Xirel, Kelvin, Gadaar, and Merel or were they already slated for the Endar Spire? Was it just a coincidence or was she indirectly responsible for the deaths of the only people onboard the Endar Spire who had accepted her as she was?

"_Thank you, Carth,"_ she thought darkly. Now he had her wondering if there was more to it than that. Only she wasn't entirely sure what "it" was. Her thoughts progressing from there becoming even more depressing, she mused to herself, _"And to think, I only wanted to know if he had enough money to buy us a round of drinks."_ Walking dejectedly behind Carth, she kept a ready grip on her vibroblade as they disappeared further down the dimly lit walkway of the Lower City.

* * *

**Author Note:** Feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	9. Javyar's Cantina

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

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**Javyar's Cantina**

After leaving the apartment complex, they were back on the walkway again. Lagging behind Carth, Rhyska let curiosity get the best of her. Switching on her stealth unit, she went off to sneak a peek at the Vulkar Base. She carefully edged along the walkway, taking in the debris cluttered about the place. Demolished and stripped swoop bikes were everywhere. Scorch marks littered the corridor, a testament to the battles fought here. What absorbed her attention was the large set of doors guarded by two tough looking thugs at corridors end. The doors were thick and made of duratsteel. _"No way to blast in there,"_ Rhyska thought to herself. _"No reason to yet either."_

Slowly, she ambled back the way she came, taking care not to disturb the wreckage and debris as she moved towards the direction Carth had taken. She was just about to round the bend when Carth came stomping from around the corner. He walked by her, grumbling loudly, "Damn that girl! Where the hell's she gone off to now?"

"Hey." Rhyska switched off her stealth unit and appeared just behind him.

Carth shook his head at her, "Well, that just figures. Do I even want to know what you were doing?"

"Don't worry, Flyboy. Nothing illegal I assure you."

"Right…" Carth glanced suspiciously down the walkway and caught sight of the Vulkar guards at the far end. "You were casing that end of the street, weren't you?"

"You make it sound way worse than it is," Rhyska insisted. "I was merely checking out a potential hot spot."

"Potential hot spot?" Carth repeated slowly. "Potential get-your-ass-blown-off-spot would be more accurate. Anyone ever tell you that you take more looking after than a nerf?"

"I do not! I was just checking the place out. Knowing a little something about everything before hand gives a girl like me a little more lee-way in a conversation. Especially if it sounds like I know what's going on."

"Too complicated for me. I want simple answers to my very simple questions."

"Yeah, yeah," Rhyska waved off the conversation dismissively. "Time constraints. I get it already. Let's just go."

The trash littered walkway led them straight to Javyar's Cantina just like Matrik said it would. A heavily armed Rodian bouncer manned the doorway, twin blasters strapped to his sides and an irate look on his face.

As Rhyska and Carth approached the cantina, the Rodian watched them apprehensively. Raising his hand, he ordered in Basic: "Stop."

"Hey," Rhyska greeted him.

Ignoring her, the bouncer recited in a less than welcoming voice, "Welcome to Javyar's Cantina. Please check your weapons at the door."

Carth shook his head, "Whoa! I don't go anywhere unarmed, especially down here. Too many trigger happy little gang bangers running around."

The Rodian set a hand on his blaster, his finger twitching against the cool metal in agitation. "No one goes into Javyar's Cantina armed unless you've been cleared as a bounty hunter. You aren't a bounty hunter so you can either please check your weapons at the door or you can piss off."

Rhyska handed over her vibroblade and blaster without complaint. Carth grudgingly handed over his. His own personal blaster he held on to, forcing the Rodian bouncer to try to pull it out of his grip.

"It's my favorite blaster," Carth said in a serious and gruff voice.

The Rodian yanked the blaster from Carth's grip and tersely pointed out, "It's a blaster, not your first born. So long as you abide by the house rules and keep from causing a ruckus, you'll get your weapons back. Screw up and I'll bounce you and keep your weapons as payment for whatever damage you cause."

"So, I take it the customers have been shooting the place up," Rhyska guessed.

"Well, somebody give the lady a gold star," the Rodian replied sarcastically. Nodding towards the walkway that led to the Vulkar base, he spat. "Stupid gangs and their stupid little war! Bring their shavit in here and shoot up my cousin's bar! Now I have to stand out here all flaming day and keep the stupid punks out!"

Carth pointed to the cantina as the Rodian continued to curse and grumble. "Hey, can we go in now?"

The Rodian turned to him and hissed, "I got your blasters, don't I?"

"That would be a yes," Rhyska murmured as she walked into Javyar's.

Carth followed closely behind her as they entered the front room of the cantina. She lingered, checking out the action at the pazaak tables. Carth stepped around her and headed for the bar to order some drinks. She hoped fervently that a tall glass of Frost would accompany him back. The clientele of this cantina was considerably lower classed. Like all good watering holes, it had the smoky rooms and jazzy music requisite to most bars. The difference between this cantina and the one in the Upper City was the fact that the music was accompanied by the low chatter of alien languages. Beneath the reek of liquor and smoke, was an underlying scent of unwashed bodies and sex. The place was run down and seedy, that was a fact. However, this was a quiet little hole in the wall where all kinds of deals were brokered. In the long run, Rhyska knew that this was the place to be for people in the know. At the very least she wasn't going to be hounded by little gizka princesses trying to blow her head off for being poorly dressed. She might even get a little fun out of it; the pazaak tables looked interesting.

In a dark corner near the cantina doors, a lone forest green Twi'lek sat shuffling a colorful array of pazaak cards. His pale green eyes caught Rhyska's stare. He grinned slyly and tipped his head in greeting. She nodded in kind and continued on. She walked by a crowded pazaak table where a dark haired man wore cocky expression of victory, as he crowed, "Yeah, baby! I am still number one!" His fair haired human opponent looked less than pleased as he watched the man scoop the winning credits off the table. Growling, he stood, "Screw this, Gelrood! I don't play with cheats!"

The dark haired man stopped smiling and looked at his opponent, affronted. "I am the Pazaak Champion of Upper and Lower Taris. The best in all of Taris!" Leaning back in his chair, he shrugged, "Pazaak is a gamble, kid. You gambled and you lost. I don't cheat. I don't need to." Looking hard at the pale fool in front of him, he advised him in a falsely conversational tone, "Keep tossing words like that around and you might find yourself in a spot of trouble, son. Lucky for you I'm the forgiving kind."

The blonde man returned Gelrood's rigid stare and left the cantina without a word.

Rhyska decided against pazaak. Even if he wasn't a cheat, the man was a card shark and she didn't have the credits or the time to spare for a tournament. So she continued on into the tap room. Carth walked over to her and handed her a tall glass filled with a pale and frosted concoction. Sitting down at one of the tables closest to the front room, Rhyska sighed tiredly after drinking down some Frost and took the opportunity to relax. Carth scanned the tap room constantly, not easing up in the slightest. Rhyska chuckled and stretched out her legs, propping them up on a chair across from her.

"You should relax."

"I'm unarmed," Carth muttered before finishing off what smelled like Corellian spiced ale. "I am not going to feel better until my blaster is back in my holster." Flagging down a silvery haired waitress, he ordered them another set.

Rhyska chuckled at his insecurity. "Please tell me you're not one of those guys."

"What guys?" The waitress came by and dropped off their drinks. She took great care to brush up against Carth and asked in a sultry voice, "Anything else I can get you, handsome?"

"Thanks, I'm good," Carth replied, flashing her a heart stopping smile. She returned his smile flirtatiously and sauntered off to deliver her next order. Carth watched her leave, taking in the slender form that was barely covered by the skimpy two piece uniform that all the waitresses in this cantina wore.

Rhyska watched him as his eyes followed the waitress. "You know, the guys that name everything, their ships, their weapons, their uh…anatomy..."

"Ships," Carth answered as he pulled his gaze back to her with a grin. "Everything I can ride has a name, not my blaster though. I probably should. Just can't think of a good one."

"Good grief." Rhyska rolled her eyes. She finished off one glass of Frost and was about to start on another when three members of the Vulkar gang walked by. Carth went silent when she tensed up. They watched as a Rodian, a Twi'lek and an Aqualish approach a man leaving one of the side rooms connected to the tap room.

He was short in stature. "_Compact and very well armored_," Rhyska decided. His suit had a Mandalorian quality to it, built to withstand multiple shots and vibroblade contacts. She doubted if anyone in this cantina had finer quality. He wore a blue trench coat, flowing open over his armor. An armor weaved hat covered his head with a neck protector flowing down to his shoulders. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of aim-enhancing blaster goggles. Strapped to his sides were a pair of heavily modified blasters.

"Guess he's a bounty hunter," Rhyska murmured under her breath.

Carth shot her a wry look. "What was your first clue?" As they watched, the whole cantina seemed to stop. Only the virtual music continued to play. No one moved or spoke. They watched, anticipating the eventual swoop wreck unfolding before them.

The three Vulkars blocked the man's path, stopping him in his tracks. The hoodlums towered over the man by a good half foot, forcing the small bounty hunter to look up at them.

The Rodian gestured to the bounty hunter excitedly, "Check it out, fellas! It's Calo Nord!"

Remaining expressionless, Calo Nord growled, "Go away."

The Rodian made a fist and shook it at Calo. "Hey! What's your problem? We just wanna say hi to the big bad bounty hunter."

The Twi'lek thug looked the bounty hunter over and spat, "Ain't no way this runt be Calo Nord. Calo Nord supposed to be the biggest, baddest bounty hunter ever!" Pointing at Calo he sniggered, "Shorty here, he's just pulling our leg."

Rhyska winced as she noted a vein in Calo's temple began to throb. Looking right at the Vulkars, he spoke in a low voice, "One…"

The Twi'lek thug looked at Calo in confusion. "One? What the hell does that mean? You been drinking, little man?"

Their Aqualish friend spoke up and said in a tight voice as he flashed his facial tattoos, "Do you know who we are? We're Black Vulkars! You don't wanna mess with us, tough guy."

To which Calo calmly replied, "Two…"

The Rodian looked back at his fellow gang members in confusion. "I don't get it. What's with the numbers? Is he trying to count how many of us there are?"

The Twi'lek thug ignored his friend and said brashly, "It's three against one, Calo. What do you think about that? Have you got something to say about that?"

"Three!" Calo replied as he threw a stun grenade at the Vulkars. Drawing his modified blasters, he expertly shot them down. The smell of smoky blaster fire wafted throughout the room. The bartender hissed irritably at the corpses and called some help from the back to dispose of the now deceased Vulkars.

Calo Nord strolled out of the tap room cool as could be. As he passed by their table, his gaze lingered on them for a second before he continued on and disappeared out of the cantina. The silence in the bar shattered by the chattering of voices as the event was recounted in a dozen languages, blown out of proportion, and straight into legend. Rhyska didn't doubt that what had happened would travel far and wide throughout the Lower City. If not for the Sith blockade, it might have traveled system wide within the space of a Coruscanti second.

Carth whistled low and shook his head. "Those Vulkars aren't very bright."

"Cronies and lackeys usually aren't," Rhyska pointed out as she listened to some of the rumors making their way in various alien languages around the room.

In hushed Twi'lek she heard, _"This gang war is getting out of hand. The Vulkars aren't just attacking Hidden Beks anymore. They're going after everyone. Did you just see those moonbrained idiots go after Calo Nord?"_

A couple of bounty hunters sitting one table over were talking about the Taris Exchange boss_. "I saw Davik's new starship in the space port just before the quarantine. They say it's the fastest ship on Taris. He calls it the Ebon Hawk. It don't look like much, but then the fast ones never do."_

A newly initiated hunter grunted, _"I heard Davik's hired a Mandalorian mercenary to work for him."_ Looking at the other hunters he muttered, _"I didn't know there were any Mandalorians left after the wars."_ Their conversation drifted back to times long past and best forgotten. Rhyska's attention drifted from conversation to conversation until she heard something about a swoop race.

A nearby Ithorian was conversing with the bartender saying, _"I can't wait for the big swoop race! I hear the Vulkars have a new engine that's going to break all the records." _

"So how long before we move on?" Carth asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Till we get a little more information on what's going down here," Rhyska replied. "If Baz landed in the Under City, then someone in the Lower City is going to know about it."

Just then, another altercation broke out near the vicinity of the music room. The cantina didn't go silent for this fight, so Rhyska could only assume that this one didn't involve blasters or short tempered bounty hunters. Standing up, she walked over to the bar for a better look. Carth opted to watch from his seat at the table.

Two Rodians bearing the facial tats of the Black Vulkar gang were harassing a teenaged Twi'lek. She was slender and delicate with features to match. Her coloring was like the pale blue sea of Manaan and her brown eyes were wide and expressive, much like her pink lips. Though she matched Rhyska in height, she didn't look a day over fourteen. Still there was something in her stance, in the fiery light sparking in her eyes that made her seem much older. _"Growing up on the streets will do that to a kid,"_ Rhyska thought to herself.

The little Twi'lek raised her voice into the loudly annoyed decibel range. "How about you gimme some space, Bug-eye? Your breath smells like bantha poodoo!"

The Rodians advanced on her and the bigger of the two replied acidly, "Maybe you ought to run along home now. Javyar's is no place for poodoo mouthed little girls!"

Her face turned purple in annoyance and her eyes flashed, the Twi'lek's voice pitch raised another notch as she hollered, "Who you calling little girl, chuba face?"

The other Rodian stepped forward menacingly and hissed, "I think somebody needs a lesson in manners!"

The Twi'lek wore a dubious expression and cocked brow. "Let me guess, you'd be the one givin' me this lesson?" Over her shoulder she called out, "Zaalbar, a little help here. I need you to rip the legs off of some bugs."

Rhyska watched as an enormous shadow walked up behind the little Twi'lek. A large and hairy Wookiee looked down on the Rodians with disinterest and whined at the girl, _"Mission, can't it wait? They just brought me my food!"_

"_Mission, huh?"_ Rhyska thought to herself.

"Do you mind? I'm being harassed here!" Mission exclaimed. "Besides, it's not like you ordered anything that's gonna up and walk away."

The Wookiee trilled and rolled his eyes. Turning to the Rodians, he shot them a withering look and snarled half heartedly, making them back away quickly. "Call off your Wookiee! We got no problems with him. Only problem we got is with you, little girl!"

Mission stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry. "Too bad! You mess with me, you mess with Big Z." With a quick glance and smile at her protector, she continued, "Unless you wanna take on my furry friend, I suggest you greenies hop on out of here."

Pointing at Mission, the Rodian spat, "You talk a lot of smack for such a little girl. One of these days, your Wookiee friend ain't gonna be there and then we'll see how big a smart mouth you are without him."

They stomped off while Mission eyed them warily, muttering defiantly at their fast retreating forms. "Yeah, whatever!"

The little Twi'lek was still cursing at the Rodians when she noticed Rhyska watching her from the bar. Zaalbar padded off back to his food, not interested in anything else.

Tilting her head to the side, Mission's head tails slid off her shoulders and trailed down her back. "Say, I don't recognize you and I know pretty much everybody in the Lower City. I bet you're here on account of the quarantine. I guess that makes me and Big Z your official welcoming committee."

"Well, thanks for the welcome," Rhyska said warmly. "It's a lot less lethal than the welcome I received earlier from some Vulkar street punks."

"Yeah, the gangs have been raging pretty bad lately. Javyar's is the only place in all the Lower City that's a no fight zone. Everywhere else is pretty much a free for all."

Carth ambled up along side Rhyska, more than a little impressed with the feisty Twi'lek. "You showed a lot of guts dealing with those Vulkars, kid. You got a name?"

"I'm Mission Vao and the one with the munchies is my best friend Zaalbar. Normally, we'd offer to give you a tour, but the Lower City's gone a little bit crazy. It's not really safe to go wandering about, but if there's anything you need…"

Rhyska took that as an opportunity for introductions. "Well, I'm Rhyska and this is Carth. So tell me, how do a Wookiee and a Twi'lek street urchin end up watching each other's back?"

Looking at the Wookiee who was chomping down a nasty mixed seafood burger, Mission shrugged, "We just kind of fell in together. It ain't easy being on your own down here in the Lower City. There's always somebody looking to push you around."

Carth chuckled. "So we noticed. Still, it's not every day you see a Twi'lek and Wookie hanging out together."

"Like I said, there's always somebody wanting to push you around. If you aren't with a gang, then some of the real creeps of the Lower City go out of their way to mess with you just 'cause they know there's no one looking out for you. I've got the street smarts and he's got the muscle. Teaming up seemed like a smart move and it was. Aren't many people dumb enough to mess with a Wookiee and I steer us clear of most trouble."

Rhyska grinned and said, "Kind of sounds like me and Carth here. He's kind of like a big Wookiee..."

Mission laughed at the sour look on Carth's face. "And I'm supposed to believe you're the smart one?"

Rhyska nodded. "Yeah."

Carth looked at Mission and shook his head. Pointing to Rhyska, he twirled a finger to the side of his head and silently mouthed "crazy."

Mission could barely hold in her giggling as Rhyska smacked Carth's hand and muttered, "Yeah, well _crazy_ got you this far, didn't it?" She turned to Mission. "Mind if I ask you some questions?"

Mission shook her head. "No. You came to the right person. If you want info on lower Taris, I'm your hookup. Davik, the Lower City gangs… I've even got the low down on that bounty hunter Calo Nord!"

That perked up Rhyska's curiosity. "The guy that just blasted those three Vulkars earlier? What do you know?"

Mission leaned against the bar and tossed the bartender a couple of credits. "The usual."

He slapped down a shot of pure juma juice in front of her and Carth watched in shock as she took it all in a quick swig and practically purred.

As the bartender refilled her shot, she told them what she knew. "He's totally hardcore, the best bounty hunter in galaxy with the record to prove it. Talk around Javyars's is that he's killed more people than the Iridian plague!" Leaning in close to Rhyska she whispered, "Don't know about that for sure, but I've seen him blast people for just trying to talk to him."

"Yeah, that part I saw," Rhyska said with a chuckle.

Nodding towards the room Calo had exited just before being accosted by the Vulkar thugs, Mission continued, "He hangs around Zax bounty office, but not for jobs. The postings are small time and a waste for a bounty hunter of his caliber. I think he's just killing time. If he's on Taris, the only one who could afford him would be Davik. Whatever Calo's here for, its probably Exchange business. A thousand credits says he's as good as gone the second the quarantine lifts. It's probably the only thing keeping him on this rock."

"_Sounds about right,"_ Rhyska thought to herself. Mission didn't miss much at all. "So tell me about Davik."

"He's the local crime lord and runs all the Exchange business on Taris, but I guess everybody knows that," Mission said with a roll of her eyes. "Only news coming out of his compound is the smuggling beauty of a ship he's got, the Ebon Hawk. I don't know much about space travel, but I hear that ship is fast enough to break the Sith blockade." Mission arched a brow and shrugged. "Course this is all just second hand rumor."

Rhyska smiled slyly. "Second hand rumor or not, you wouldn't happen to know where would he keep it, do you?"

"Nice try. I know where you're going with this. You aren't the first person to wonder, either. If Davik's got a ship, then he's got it locked up on his estate. Nobody goes in there unless they're working for him and the Exchange. So unless you know a guy who isn't on Davik's poodoo list—ain't nobody getting near that ship."

Rhyska sighed. "Well, it was a nice thought."

"Hey," Mission said with a sympathetic laugh. "It still is a nice thought, just not a very likely one."

"What's going on with the gangs? It's like a war zone out there," Carth said.

"That's because it is. There's only two gangs worth worrying about in the Lower City: the Black Vulkars and the Hidden Beks. Zaalbar and I hang out at the Bek base. Gadon Thek has led the Beks for years. They're an honest bunch and they do their best to keep the Lower City denizens from getting in the middle of the current turf war. The whole stupid mess is totally the Vulkars' fault!" Mission exclaimed heatedly. "They're the ones blasting at everything that moves in the streets. It's like they've gone bonzo!"

"I can't argue that. Feels like target practice out there." Rhyska considered the new information she had just learned and then asked, "This Gadon Thek—you think he'd be willing to help a couple of off worlders?"

Mission frowned in uncertainty. "Used to be I'd say sure, lately it's kind of iffy. The Bek base isn't far. Lindra is standing guard today. I'm pretty sure you can talk your way in. Gadon will hear you out, whatever your problem. Like I said, he's a quality leader. He might say no, but he knows everybody. If he can't help you, he probably knows someone who can."

"Right on!" Rhyska said happily. "Thanks, Mission. I gotta stop by the bounty hunting office, but before I go, do you know where I can find a guy named Holdan?"

"Holdan? That butt wipe?" Mission said incredulously. "He's over in the music room ogling the dancers, like usual. What do you want to talk to him for?"

"A girl in my apartment complex has a problem with him," Rhyska confided. "I told her I'd have a chat with him for her."

"Good luck with Mr. Cop-a-feel," Mission said distastefully. "Well, if you're going now, I'll be off. Quiet moments at Javyar's are boring!" Turning to her hairy friend, she hollered, "Come on, Big Z. Let's go!"

Zaalbar was on his third helping when she interrupted him. _"Mission! I haven't even finished eating!"_

"Zee, if you aren't eating, you're thinking about eating. I bet you probably dream about eating." Walking over to him, Mission tugged on a chunk of black brown hair on his arm and wheedled, "Come on, big fella! I heard some of the Bek's swiped a crate of fresh flutter krill. If we leave now, I bet we could score some. Maybe even get someone to fry 'em up for us."

He perked up considerably at the thought of better food. Mission laughed and headed out of the taproom. Zaalbar trilled at a nearby waitress and left some credits on the table as he made his way out of Javyar's Cantina without so much as a glance at Rhyska and Carth.

Turning his attention back to Rhyska, Carth tapped her on the shoulder. "Who the hell is Holdan? And what girl in what apartment complex are you talking about?"

"You know when you were talkin' to old Kadir?"

"Can't say that conversation will ever, ever leave me," Carth shuddered.

"Well, I was talking to one of our neighbors and I promised her that if I ended up in the Lower City I'd talk to a guy that was givin' her problems."

"So this has nothing to do with our current predicament."

"Nope, not really."

"In that case, I'll be here until you need me." Carth waved the bartender over for another drink and leaned against the bar.

"Thanks, Flyboy." Rhyska flashed him a wry look as she made her way to the music room.

"Anytime, Gorgeous," Carth winked at her before taking a swig of his drink.

---------------

The music room was filled with seedy patrons leering at the scantily clad dancing Twi'leks. Stopping a voluptuous, dark haired waitress, Rhyska asked, "I'm looking for Holdan. Know who he is?"

The waitress looked at her incredulously. "You're looking for Holdan? What in the hell for?"

"I need to have a few words with him," Rhyska replied uneasily as the dark haired waitress stared her down.

"Does it involve a blunt instrument?"

"Uh, no. Should it?"

"Only if you're particular about his greasy mitts giving you a squeeze," the waitress huffed. "The Huttslug's sitting in the far left corner."

The waitress was off and walking before Rhyska could thank her. Scanning the left corner of the room, she saw a ruggedly handsome man leering at the Twi'lek dancers, not unlike the rest of the males in the music room. However, he was the only who went out of his way to feel up the red haired waitress who dropped off the drinks. She hopped out of his reach before he could get to her, nearly dropping her other orders trying to evade his touch.

"Hello, pervert," Rhyska said under her breath as she walked towards him. She pulled up a chair just behind him before sitting down and tapping his shoulder to get his attention.

He had sandy brown hair and light blue eyes and a decently muscular build. In a lot of ways, he was just about the right balance of scruffy and bad boy. Except for the wandering hands—Rhyska couldn't abide that. Still, she couldn't help but admit that for a Huttslug, Holdan looked pretty damn good.

Holdan's eyes were slightly glazed from staring so hard at the eye candy on the stage. At her touch he downed the rest of his drink and looked around for the waitress. His eyes widened in surprise to find her sitting so close behind him.

"Oh! I didn't see you there. You here for the music or the show? Me, I like the way the dancers waggle their head tails!" Holdan said with a lewd chuckle. As he spoke, he took in the sight of her as she sat there and gave him the first smile he'd seen in a week.

With a roguish grin, he assured her, "But don't worry, honey. Alien girls aren't really my thing. I'm much more interested in an attractive female of my own species."

"Right." She flashed him a come hither smile. "And you are…"

Leaning towards her, he introduced himself by drawling, "My name's Holdan, baby."

It was all Rhyska could do not to smack him. _"Baby!"_ She decided right then and there that the next person who called her _Baby_ was going to get a swift kick to the nuts. She continued to smile at him with a feigned look of interest as he started tossing out the big names. "You've probably heard of me. I work for Davik Kang, you know."

Forcing herself to seem delightfully surprised, she asked buoyantly, "You work for Davik, huh? Must mean you're hot stuff!"

"Yeah," he replied as he turned towards her, giving her his full attention. "I'm one of Davik's most trusted couriers. Before this quarantine, I was busy doing his top runs for him off world."

Crooking a finger at her to lean in closer, he whispered, "I've got an edge most of the other runners don't. I used to be an intergalactic customs agent, so I know all the tricks they use to catch smugglers."

"So you're a real pro," Rhyska filled in. This might even be better than she hoped for initially. Holdan seemed into her and he certainly didn't mind talking about himself. She might be able to get some information from him about Davik's ship. "You're pretty cavalier about all that. Aren't you worried about the authorities finding out what you do for a living?"

Holdan shrugged and reached out to tuck a stray tendril behind her ear. Trailing his fingers down her cheek to her jaw, he replied, "It's not like its some big secret. Besides, it's Davik they watch. When you run in the upper circles of the Exchange, keeping a low profile is just not gonna happen."

"Does that mean he's powerful enough to get off of Taris?" Rhyska asked curiously.

Holdan chuckled and tweaked her on the nose. "Honey, Davik's ship may be the fastest in the entire quadrant, but even the Ebon Hawk isn't getting off of Taris until the Sith say so."

Rhyska wrinkled her nose and continued listening to him. He kept on talking even as he reached over to play with a tendril of her hair, rubbing the silk of it between his fingers. "The Sith fleet has the planet surrounded. Anyone leaving orbit without the proper access codes will be disintegrated by the Sith auto targeting laser canons and those codes are locked safely away in the military base."

"Huh, hard to get to." Rhyska considered the picture forming in her head.

"That's a fact. Davik's pretty pissed about it. His smuggling operation isn't making any money and even with his underworld connections he can't get his hands on those codes. But enough about him and me," Holdan drawled as he lazily slid a hand behind her neck and pulled her close enough to kiss. "Let's talk about me and you."

Before he could kiss her, she slipped her finger onto his lips and stopped him. "So, am I correct in thinking that you're the guy who put the bounty on Dia's head?"

Holdan blinked a couple of times, his face a mask of confusion and thwarted lust. "Oh, you're here about that? I guess Zax must have mentioned me to you in the bounty office." He looked her over once more and then asked a question that was both strangely curious and incredibly irritating. "You're a bounty hunter? Sweet thing like you?"

Unable to keep from narrowing her eyes at him, she replied stiffly, "Yeah, sweet thing like me."

Holdan leaned back and sighed. "Fair enough, I don't care who takes her out so long as it gets done." Looking at her, he tried to explain. "The wench tried to cut me with a vibroblade in front of my crew! I can't let that slide."

His incredulity made Rhyska smile. This idiot was never going to understand why he was such a ronto's butt. He actually expected some empathy from her. "Really? Now why would she do a thing like that?"

Oblivious, Holdan continued to rant. "Cause she's crazy! One minute she's cool and the next she's screeching and coming at me with a vibroblade."

Rhyska cocked an eyebrow and looked at him quizzically. Before being able to say anything, a familiar voice said from directly behind her, "Yeah, right. Sounds to me like she was defending herself."

Startled, Rhyska looked behind her. She was surprised to find Carth, who was giving Holdan a very unfriendly look. His eyes had become cold and his demeanor dark and foreboding. Rhyska wondered how long had he been sitting there. He snuck up behind her so quietly she hadn't even heard him. Of course, she had been slightly preoccupied with Mr. Touchy Feely. Still, she couldn't imagine that Carth was even half interested in helping out Dia. He didn't even know her, never met her in fact. She shrugged mentally, maybe Carth just felt like intimidating somebody. He was certainly doing quite a number on Holdan, who squirmed uncomfortably in his seat under Carth's fixed stare.

Holdan audibly gulped. "Sure, I had a couple of drinks and maybe I was a little forward, but I didn't do anything to justify her coming at me like a maniac. It was no big deal."

Rhyska turned back to Holdan and frowned. "For something that wasn't a big deal, you sure are doing an awful lot of explaining. Sounds like maybe you were asking for it."

Holdan scowled at the sudden turnabout. He griped loudly to Carth, mistakenly thinking that Carth would empathize where Rhyska wouldn't. "She totally overreacted! If you were there, you would agree with me."

Carth shot him a look that stated plainly he wouldn't.

Rhyska shook her head and declared, "I want the bounty on Dia's head removed."

Brows climbing a few inches up his forehead, Holdan bellowed, "What? I can't do that! I have a reputation to uphold. She did that to me in front of my crew. You know how it'll look if I let shavit like that slide?"

His only reply was their withering gaze. Holdan changed his tune rather quickly. "Although I do feel a little guilty about all of this. Dia's a fine lookin' girl. Maybe putting a bounty on her was a bit hasty on my part." Pretending to think on it, he suggested, "Tell you what, you pay me two hundred credits in exchange for lifting the bounty and we'll call it good."

Exercising a little persuasion, she pointed out, "Holdan, let's just sit here and think this through. If you hire someone to kill Dia it'll look like you weren't man enough to do it yourself. Now you're a smart guy. What would that do to your reputation?"

Holdan blinked a couple of times and mulled over what Rhyska had just said. With a deep sigh, he finally caved in. "Well, I guess you might be right about that."

Rhyska patted him on the shoulder and replied, "I thought we might come to an understanding."

Holdan flashed her a weak smile and then watched as the red headed waitress walked by. If looks could kill, Holdan would have been dead ten times over. With a slight shudder he confided to Rhyska, "Probably for the best. I've noticed that some of the girls around Javyar's have been giving me the cold shoulder since this mess started." He glanced as the redhead made her way back to the taproom and frowned. "Okay, you win. I'll cancel Dia's bounty. Just give me a second to mosey on down to Zax's and withdraw contract."

As he got up, Holdan decided to push his luck. "Are you gonna be here when I get back? 'Cause I suspect you'll have some free time here in a few minutes. Maybe you and I can…"

Before he could finish the sentence, Carth cut him off bluntly, "Beat it, pal. She'll be busy."

Holdan raised his hands up. "Reading you loud and clear my friends. I'll be going now."

They watched Holdan slowly amble out of the music room. He turned back once to see if they were watching him and was greeted by the scowl on Carth's face. Stepping up his retreat, the smuggler vanished into the Bounty Office.

"Thanks, you were great with the whole intimidation and antagonistic bit. Dia is going to be thrilled."

"Sure." The expression on Carth's face eased up slightly. He flashed her a tight smile. "Glad to help."

**

* * *

Author Note:** Feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	10. Friction

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**Friction**

* * *

Rhyska walked back to the taproom with Carth who sat at the bar and asked, "Are we done here?" 

"Not yet, I've just got to talk to Zax at the Bounty office. I know messing with Holdan wasn't on your list of things to do, but I did find out something very interesting that is right up our alley."

"What would that be?" Carth looked at her, waiting to be impressed.

"Holdan said that the Sith have the planet surrounded and that in order to break through the Sith blockade you have to have the codes to the Sith auto targeting laser canons," Rhyska said quietly.

That got Carth's attention. "Codes? Did he say where those are?"

"Locked up in the Military Base," Rhyska whispered.

"This would be the heavily defended and armed to the teeth Military base at the far end of Upper Taris?"

"Yup," Rhyska nodded.

Carth let out a tired sigh. "Nothing is ever easy."

Rhyska patted him on the shoulder. "Maybe we can score a little help down here. Soon as I'm done in the bounty office we can head over to the Bek base like Mission suggested. If Gadon Thek is as well connected as Mission swears, he might know a little something about Baz."

"Ever the optimist. You've got a plan for everything, don't you? Come on, I'll go with you to the bounty office. Let's get this done."

Walking into the Bounty Office set Carth ill at ease. There was something very disconcerting about entering a room where everyone else was armed, with him as the only exception. Letting Rhyska go by herself unarmed was also not an option, especially if Holdan was still there.

He had been sitting at the bar enjoying his drink and flirting with the silvery haired waitress from earlier when he looked in the direction of the music room to find Rhyska sitting there calm as a clam letting Holdan touch her face, her hair, and then very nearly let him kiss her. The urge to sock him was just as strong as when he'd watched Yun manhandle Rhyska and manage to kiss her. 'Course, he got away with hitting him. He couldn't really do that here. Not without his blaster to back him up. So the best he could get away with was glaring at the little imbecile until he went away. He was still agitated by the whole thing. He didn't know why he was so bothered by it all. He'd seen Rhyska in action often enough to know that she could take care of herself. Hell, he knew damn well that she'd find away to knock a body out cold just so she could rob them.

He was beginning to think the waitress' offer for a little "extra helping" might not be such a bad thing. He didn't know what it was about this flaming planet, with their ass backwards people and their freaky ale, but something was just messing him up. Badly. The only saving grace was that Rhyska seemed oblivious to it all. He hoped she stayed that way. This was not a topic he wished to discuss.

Rhyska walked slowly to the Hutt at the back of the Bounty Office. Most of the bounty hunters milled about the room. Others, like the Hutt, were entranced by the dancing practice of a lone Twi'lek female performing for a serious looking male of her species. If the look on his face was any indication, he didn't look too pleased.

As Rhyska reached the Hutt, she had to wave her arm in front of his eyes to wake him up from the reverie he was in. "Apologies, my mind was…elsewhere," he muttered lewdly in Huttese. His assistant appeared beside him and began translating. Taking in the look of Rhyska and Carth he said curiously, "New faces…would be bounty hunters, yes? I am Zax, I run the bounty office. Looking for work? I've a number of unclaimed bounties and they all pay quite well. Or is it information you seek? All of Lower Taris knows that I am the eyes and ears. I'm the Hutt with all the answers."

A sly smile curved Rhyska's lips as she asked in fluent Huttese, "What've you got?"

Zax grunted in surprise and waved off his assistant. "I've two government contracts out right now. Neither requires live retrieval. The first is for an assassin named Selven and the other is for Bendak Starkiller, a famous death match duelist. Between the two of them, they have killed hundreds of people."

Carth looked uncertainly at Rhyska, "Hundreds? Don't get me wrong, I don't figure a government would put a contract on them unless they are serious problems, but they sound just a little out of our league. I know we need the credits and all, but I don't know that we have the time to go hunting for Taris' worst offenders."

Zax laughed at Carth's comment, his body rippling with movement. "More than a few agree with you, my pale friend. Those are the oldest contracts I've got. Let me pull up my special contracts. Hmmm… I stand corrected. There was a contract for a girl name Dia, but that was just pulled and one of my contacts in the Upper City just received the payment in full dues from Davik's other contract, so Largo is also off the table."

With a thunderous sigh, Zax informed them about his final available contract. "It looks like the only specialty contract I have right now is for Matrik, a former underling of Davik's. He betrayed the Exchange and now Davik wants him dead."

Carth gave Rhyska knowing look at the mention of Matrik's name and Rhyska nodded. Carth whispered to her, "Lucky for Dia and Largo that they're off the table. It must suck to be wanted by a crime lord."

"You have no idea," Rhyska muttered. "Listen, I'm gonna chat with him awhile. I'll get us Bounty Hunter status for next time. You go and chill."

"You sure about that?" Carth looked around the room uneasily.

"Yeah! Go and blow off some steam, have a drink, or whatever. I might be awhile."

Carth gave her an impatient look and reminded her, "Not too long if you want to get to the Bek base tonight."

"You got it," Rhyska said, poking him in the arm. She watched Carth wander back into the tap room and then turned back to Zax, "What can you tell me about Selven and Bendak?"

Zax blinked his bulbous eyes at her and then said, "The first one, Selven, is a dangerous woman. When she started she was just another cutthroat working for Davik, then she began freelancing to the highest bidder. One day, she killed six citizens in the street and their bodyguards too. They were all Ulgos."

Rhyska blinked rapidly as she repeated, "Ulgo?" A quick mental check brought up an image of Trask as she recalled his last name. _"Trask Ulgo?"_

Zax nodded. "A powerful merchant family with many enemies. Selven was hired to kill off the whole family. She's nothing if not efficient at her job. Poisoned in the safety of their homes or blasted in the middle of the street. It didn't matter. Each day more Ulgos died and no amount of money could buy guards or droids to protect them. By month's end, there were no Ulgos left in Taris. Not one. If not for this occupation, Selven would have made her way off world to finish off the rest of the family."

Rhyska swallowed. "They never found out who had hired Selven to kill them?"

"Bah! Merchant politics! A rival family put out the contract, though no one knows which. Many suspect the Organas, but it's not something that can be proven. Only Selven knows and I doubt it is information she would share, even if death were knocking on her door. In any case, Tarisian politics aren't your concern. You kill Selven, you get the credits. That's the only important thing, right?"

"Yeah," Rhyska breathed. "That's the important thing." In her head she saw Trask just as he was right before sacrificing himself for her. Sweaty, injured, covered in blood, a grim smile on his face and a fierce love of life sparking in his eyes as they battled together. She couldn't save him, but if this quarantine ever lifted, she'd make damn sure that Selven wouldn't wipe his line from the face of the galaxy.

Rhyska nodded. "What about Bendak?"

Zax hissed, "Taris' star duelist. He made the government contract list because he only fought death matches. In his prime, when death matches weren't against the law, he killed hundreds. The banning of death matches forced him to fight in the underground circuit and he killed some more. When the government put a contract on him, it forced him into early retirement. His is the longest contract I have every held. No one's been able to collect on his bounty. Bendak is a legend. Not too many try to collect and most that do all wind up dead." Zax looked at her and said, "Human girl, your Huttese impresses me. Clearly you are a credit to your species for learning true culture. It would pain me greatly to hear you died going after that one."

Rhyska smiled. "You're a real charmer, Zax. I'm interested, but not quite committed to that one. I do have a bounty I would like to collect on."

Zax's eyes opened wide and he quirked a brow curiously, "Do you now? Well little girl, tell me which one are you collecting?"

"Well, I offed Matrik," Rhyska replied coolly. "Set a permacrete detonator off in his apartment."

"I believe you, human," Zax said with a laugh. He leaned towards her. The smell of his breath reeking before her. "I heard reports of a large explosion in one of the apartment complexes here in the Lower City and one of my contacts saw you buying a permacrete detonator in the Upper City. It's good Matrik is dead, Davik will shut up now."

His Twi'lek assistant ran to get her pay as Zax advised her, "A word, little girl, maybe you went over board, you know? Next time use a blaster and not a bomb. Bombs are…messy."

The assistant handed her a bag full of credits as Zax spoke. "At least the job is done though. Three hundred credits, little girl, that's the price for our bounties."

Rhyska smiled at the weight of it. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Zax."

"Next time you come in, you can bring your weapons. I will let Ruulu know. You do good work, human. There are lots of bounty hunters on Taris and most are lazy," Zax said with a rumbling chuckle. "Maybe if you keep cashing in bounties they'll work a little harder."

"See you around then," Rhyska said with a wave.

As she walked off, Zax turned his attention back to a pair of auditioning Twi'lek dancers. His eyes glazed over once more as he lost himself in the motions of their dance.

---------------

Rhyska looked for Carth in the tap room, but couldn't spot him anywhere. She also couldn't find the silver haired waitress from before. _"Maybe flyboy got lucky?"_ she wondered to herself. Then she grunted, slightly amused. _"Nah!"_

Staying nearby seemed like a good idea and so she opted to stay in the tap room and wait for him. She had barely sat down at the bar when she noticed the peach and orange colored Twi'lek who was crying into her drink.

Rhyska looked at her, deducing from her revealing red and black two-piece dancing costume that she must be one of the dancers auditioning for the rather irritated looking Twi'lek in the bounty office. He was currently judging another pair of female Twi'leks dancing in sync together. They weren't bad, but the he still didn't look impressed.

"What's with the waterworks?" Rhyska chided. "You'll ruin your makeup."

The Twi'lek looked at her with fiery red eyes as tears coursed down her face, "It doesn't matter. What's the point? I don't have a partner to audition with so it's not like he'll hire me anyway!"

"What are you talking about?"

She gestured to the auditions behind her. "See that Twi'lek over there? That's Bib Surool, the manager and the talent scout for the Starlight Entertainers."

"Who?"

The little orange Twi'lek looked at her, completely astounded. "Do you live under a rock?! What kind of backwater world are you from that you don't know who they are? They are only the biggest performing troupe in the quadrant!" Shaking her head, she wiped her tears from her face. "When I heard he was stuck on Taris, I figured it was my lucky break. If I impressed him, I thought he might hire me on as a dancer and then I'd finally get off this rock."

"Well, you're crying, so what went wrong?"

"I have no partner!" the dancer wailed. "All because I told her that she had the grace of a Ronto and the rhythm of a Bantha. I told her it just about killed any chance of her getting into the Starlight Entertainers. I was just being honest. Then she just ditched me, right before the audition too. I couldn't believe it!"

"Perhaps not the best time for complete and total honesty," Rhyska pointed out wryly. "Maybe next time, the honesty can wait until after you land the job."

The Twi'lek looked at her and shrugged. "My partner before that was even worse. Now Bib is here and I'm here, but I don't have a partner and the Starlight Entertainers never perform solo. If they can't judge how well I dance with someone else, it's over!" Eyes filling with tears once more, she cried, "I should just throw myself off a building!"

Rhyska shook her head. "Bad idea. You could fall for hours!"

The Twi'lek looked at her with a mixture of bafflement and horror. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Not really. Mostly it was just to stop you from crying. You don't want to try out with a puffy face, do you?"

"Were you not listening? I have no partner!"

"Well, I am supposed to be waiting for a friend," Rhyska said as she scoped out the room once more. "But he seems to have disappeared on me, so I have time to kill. If you want, I'll dance with you."

"I am not that desperate." After looking back over her shoulder at the audition, she recanted, "Okay, so maybe I am desperate, but I don't want to blow this audition. I can't just pair up with any old passerby. I mean, how do I know you're any good?"

"You don't. You're just going to have to take a leap of faith."

"I don't know that I can do that," the dancer said uncertainly.

"You just said you ought to throw yourself off a building," Rhyska pointed out. "Same flaming difference. Anyway, I'm good enough to get you through your audition."

The Twi'lek scanned her physical build with a critical eye. "Well, you do have that certain look about you and a confidence of movement. Hmmm. Oh, what the hell? What have I got to lose?"

"A long drop off a building?" Rhyska grinned and held her hand out to the dancer. "My name is Rhyska. What's yours?"

"Lyn." Lyn shook her hand and stared nervously at what Rhyska was wearing. "Do you have anything else to wear besides that?"

"Nope. Shouldn't what I'm wearing be fine? This is just an audition, anyway."

"If you were me, would you do this half assed?" Lyn demanded, suddenly not the crying, wailing dancer from before.

"I suppose not, but whatever you have in mind, I need to see first. I'm not wearing anything too crazy in this crowd," Rhyska insisted. "Especially since my blaster is out front with the Rodian."

Lyn smiled. "I think I have just the thing. My old partner was not as delicate as I am. Her costumes are a little different, which could work for you. Enough coverage for you, but pleasing to the eye as well."

"Yeah, well, your version of coverage and my version of coverage are two different things," Rhyska said uncertainly. "Show me first."

---------------

Twenty minutes later, Rhyska stepped out of the refresher wearing a cloak over the costume she had decided on. It really wasn't bad looking. She just didn't want Holdan or Carth seeing her in it. So far, she was lucky. Her hair was down, falling free to mid back and her face was made flawless due to Lyn's experience with quick make-up applications. Rhyska didn't really mind the dancing outfit Lyn had picked for her, it could have been worse. At least her boobs weren't hanging out—not that they could. Well endowed was not a term that could ever be applied to her. Her curves were modest and her body was lean from hours of training with her fellow misfits. A small smile tugged at her lips as she recalled her training sessions with both Merel and Beltren. Despite feeling vulnerable without the protection of body armor, the weight of Beltren's knife tucked away in a hidden sleeve of her boot gave her some measure of comfort and security.

She got to the Bounty Office without incident and thankfully with Carth nowhere in sight. She'd never hear the end of it. Never mind what she was wearing. He'd rant on her about how this was a waste of time and that they needed to hurry and find the Great Jedi Wonder. But she needed this. Not that robbing people and sacking entire buildings wasn't a thrilling way to blow off some steam, but that was more of a mental exercise. She needed something that was going to stretch her physically. Preferably something that wouldn't involve her swapping body fluids with anyone else. Sex was fun, but probably not the best idea on this world. Dancing was the next best thing. Dropping her rucksack into the corner with Lyn's stuff, she proceeded to stretch as Lyn spoke with Bib Surool.

"Mr. Surool, I've got a partner now! I'd really like to audition for you."

Bib looked at Lyn and then he looked at Rhyska who was stretching with the cloak on. "A human, Lyn?"

"She was kind enough to fill in for my sick partner, Mr. Surool. I promise it will be an audition to remember."

The look he gave her was skeptical at best. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt as soon as she takes the cloak off."

Lyn smiled graciously, "Of course."

Turning to Rhyska, she said between deep breaths, "Are you ready? Good, off with the cloak. You can't dance in it."

Rhyska scanned the room quickly for Carth and undid the clasp when she was certain he wasn't around. The cloak fell to the floor and Bib Surool's brow raised a notch. So did a few of the bounty hunters. Rhyska's black hair shone with a violet light. Her dancing costume consisted of two pieces. Her top was a semi-sheer lime colored fabric, overlaid with a fitted indigo leather halter top. The halter secured into a ring at the base of her neck, leaving her upper back and shoulders bare, accentuating her cleavage and hugging her upper torso like a second skin. The skirt hung low on her hips, consisting of a wide leather indigo belt with the layers of sheer lime and indigo panels hanging down to the floor. Indigo leather bracers graced her wrists and lower arms and as a point of comfort, Rhyska was able to retain her lucky black boots. As she moved, the panels of her skirt revealed tantalizing glimpses of thigh. The costume effectively flaunted her athletic physique.

Lyn was stunning in a similar outfit of rust colored leather with red and yellow gold sheers. As they closely stood side by side, Bib Surrool nodded his head emphatically. "Yes, I do believe this will be the most memorable audition I will have attended in a great long while." His gaze raked over Lyn and Rhyska one final time. "Okay, Lyn. You've got one more chance. You have one minute to get your partner set up and then we'll see what you've got. You're my last three dances. Impress me!"

Rhyska followed Lyn to the side and listened as she began to instruct her on some dance steps. "Okay, just follow my lead and remember. The more complicated our moves and the closer we dance, the more it will impress Bib, but don't get too close if you can't handle it. If you trip me up, this audition will be over! So please don't screw this up for me!"

"Relax, Lyn. I'm not flashing skin for my health here. I said I'd help you and I will. You just need to breathe."

"Sorry." Lyn took in a deep breath and then exhaled, shaking off nervous jitters. "I just don't want to blow this."

"You'll be fine. Just dance, everything else will take care of itself."

The music started up and Rhyska began to sway beside Lyn. Mimicking her movements, Rhyska raised her arms to shoulder level and made gentle circles with her hands. As they swayed from side to side, they began creating figure eights with their hips. When Lyn signaled her a few beats later, they danced together in perfect unison.

Arms held out, rising and falling to the beat as they stepped to the right making hip circles and then stepped to the left. Their upper bodies remained still as their hips enticed the room with their smooth, gyrating motions.

The bounty hunters that had been gossiping in the room earlier were now solely focused on Bib Surool's final dance applicants. Zax watched lasciviously from his corner of the room, his assistant keeping a clear line of vision between the Hutt and the dancing girls.

As the song ended Bib nodded his head appreciatively. "Very nice Lyn, an excellent example of unison dancing. Your partner isn't too bad for an amateur. I'll give you a minute for the next set, try to step it up for me, all right?"

"Yes, Mr. Surool!" Lyn replied, smiling at Bib's praise. She turned to Rhyska. "You big liar, you've danced before!"

Rhyska shrugged. "Dancing isn't terribly different from fighting. They both have their routines, though dancing is more fun. Most of my dance numbers are private. I've never danced in a room with so many people before. I hope that's all right?"

"Are you kidding? You're off to a great start, better than I could have hoped for. This could actually be my lucky day!" Lyn gushed. "You're not bad for an amateur, but the next dance is a little bit different, so watch for the pickups and follow my lead."

Lyn was still showing Rhyska the moves she planned on using when Bib started up the music for the second set.

Standing behind Lyn, Rhyska began to sway, finding the beat. At Lyn's signal they stepped out to the side, Lyn going left and Rhyska going right. Their bodies moved in a fluid serpentine motion, legs moving out to the side as their hips rose and then dipping down when their legs moved back in. Their upper bodies slid back and forth rhythmically as their arms fell and rose in unison with their hips.

As they danced, patrons from the cantina began joining the ogling bounty hunters. The entrancing females danced close enough to brush up against each other, eliciting whistles and cat calls from the crowd.

Focused solely on the girls before him, Bib nodded his head in time with the beat. "Excellent. One, two, three, one, two, three…" As the music ended he said with a genuine smile, "Very good, Lyn. Only one more dance to go."

"One more dance to go! As long as we don't screw this up, I think I'm in. Follow me and please keep it simple."

"If you want simple, I've got an idea." Rhyska leaned in close to make a suggestion as the Bib played the final musical number.

Lyn and Rhyska stood face to face, waiting for the music to move them. As they found the beat, they began circling one another in time with the music. The girls ignored the crowd. Instead, they fixed their gazes on each other as they mirrored dance steps. When the pitch of the music changed, they swayed into the other's path, their motions challenging and defiant. They undulated from side to side, their movements exciting the crowd around them. When the pitch of the music slowed they began circling again, rising and falling as they moved. Their bodies like a giant wave, rippling as they danced. When the song picked up its pace, signaling the coming end, Lyn and Rhyska faced each other so that Bib could watch their profiles.

"Looking good, girls!" Bib was very pleased with the crowd the girls had accumulated. "Looking very good! Let the music flow through you."

They began to shimmy, hips moving at an impossible speed and then subtly, they slowed down into figure eight hip circles. Arms moving sensuously in the air, their shoulders making gentle backward motions one at a time. Moving close enough to almost touch, the girls linked their fingers together. They moved as one into a giant hip circle, Lyn coming towards her, stabilizing Rhyska as she bent backwards deep enough for her hair to just brush the floor. Completing the circle, Rhyska did the same for Lyn, who let out a soft sigh as she dipped bonelessly low. They came together at the final note, pressed against one another. Their hands entwined before them, a vision of desire made flesh.

The crowd around them burst with whoops and hollers, catcalls and offers. They were crude, but very appreciative. Lyn was glowing with pride at a dance well done, anxiously awaiting Bib Surool's final word.

"Well," she asked him apprehensively. "What did you think? Did I get the job? Do you want me to dance some more? I can do another one if you want…"

From his spot in the back, Zax hollered in Huttese to Bib Surool, "If you don't want her, _I do_!"

Bib chuckled and bowed to the Hutt. "Apologies, great one. However the Starlight Entertainers do want her."

Upon hearing that, Lyn squealed gleefully and hugged Rhyska, much to the surrounding crowd's delight. Rhyska blushed and smiled sheepishly at their response.

Bib Surool smiled widely at Lyn and held out a hand to her. "Welcome to the Starlight Entertainers!"

"I can't believe this!" Lyn breathed as she walked over to Bib Surool. "I made it. I really made it. This is incredible!"

"Believe it, kid. You're in," Bib Surool insisted. "Now we need to get you fitted for your outfits and we need to start rehearsals. You've also got contracts to sign. So we need should go! Busy, busy! That's the life of a star."

Turning to Rhyska, she smiled. "Thank you! I couldn't have made it without you."

"Tell you what," Rhyska began. "If your old partner isn't going to use her costumes, I'd love that as payment."

"Are you kidding?" Not believing what she was hearing, Lyn exclaimed, "I am a Starlight Entertainer! I'm going to be fitted for my new costumes. Honey, you can keep it all!"

Rhyska grinned happily. "Excellent! You never know if this'll come in handy down the road."

"If you're ever traveling the galaxy and see the Starlight Entertainers, stop by and ask for Lyn," she said with a wink. "I'll see if I can get you some free tickets."

Rhyska returned the wink. "The things I do for a free show."

---------------

Unbeknownst to Rhyska, Carth was not missing in action. He had been there for nearly the whole show. After he'd left Rhyska in the bounty office to discuss further details with the Hutt, he had gone back to the bar, where the pretty silver haired waitress was waiting for him. Handing him a glass of spiced ale, she whispered, "There's somebody waiting for you by the refreshers."

For a moment Carth looked a little alarmed. "Really?" He was alone, unarmed, and the idea of getting jumped in a place like this made him nervous.

Seeing his worry, the waitress chuckled and stroked his face. "Don't worry, handsome. It's not that kind of a meeting."

The way she looked at him as she stroked his face made Carth's blood warm. _"On second thought,"_ Carth thought to himself. _"Maybe getting jumped isn't such a bad idea."_

"The refreshers, huh?"

"That's right," the waitress purred.

Setting his glass on the bar, he strolled to the refreshers and looked around the room. Beside the male and female refresher looked to be the back room door for employees. He was about to turn around when a flash of silver pushed him though the employee doors and up against the wall.

Before he could say a word, soft pink lips were suddenly on his. A delicate hand raked through his hair and a slender feminine body moved against him. Heat course through him as his tongue swept into her mouth, his hands holding her close to him gliding over her gentle curves.

He stepped forward, suddenly lifting her off her feet and pushing her up against the wall. She gave a frustrated moan when he ended the kiss and pulled away from her.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Carth said with a shake of his head. "Just curious though, what's your name?"

With a seductive smile, she leaned forward and whispered against his mouth, "Saphiel."

"Hello, Saphiel," Carth said softly just before he began kissing her all over again.

Carth lost track of time as he found himself immersed in a fog of heat and desire. He wasn't aware of anything except the dull ache expanding within him and of Saphiel who encouraged him wholeheartedly with lips, hands, and body.

They were oblivious to the world around them. Not the chatter from the bar, the snicker of passing waitresses, nor the sounds of the refresher on the other side of the wall pierced the haze they were in. His jacket had been unzipped some time ago and Saphiel was running her hands under his shirt when the unexpected happened. A familiar scent penetrated the hot and heavy impromptu make-out session. Light, enticing, and difficult to ignore, the fragrance permeated his senses, bringing him out of the haze he was in. He reluctantly pulled away from Saphiel who asked, "What is it?"

"I'm sorry, Saphiel. Technically, I'm working," Carth explained. "I'm supposed to meet my partner at the bar in a few minutes. We'll be heading off after that."

"Where?" Saphiel grinned at him wickedly and said in a sultry voice, "It can't possibly be better than what we're doing right now."

"We're making our way into the Under City."

Saphiel grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and pulled him close, her tone taking on a serious edge. "Then you'd better do me now, cause no matter how hot you are I don't bump pelvises with any guy who hangs around the Under City. A girl's got enough to worry about with the usual STDs, I'm not into worrying if I'm going to mutate into a flesh eating monster!"

Carth dropped a quick kiss onto her forehead. "Thanks for helping me forget my problems, if even only for a short while."

"Oh, come on," Saphiel wheedled. "I'm sure you've got enough time for a quick one."

"I don't want a quick one." He began straightening what little clothing she wore and tried to smooth down her fall of silver hair. "And you deserve better."

Saphiel blinked at him several times, stunned. "I've heard it all now," Saphiel said, not quite believing what had just happened. It wasn't often she wanted someone enough to actually corner them and throw herself at them, much less get turned down. Most men usually charmed their way into her favor and that usually never lasted longer than the time it took for them to empty themselves into her body. In point fact, most of the matings she'd experienced in the cantina barely qualified for a two minute screw. Kissing Carth once more she breathed, "You come back from the Under City and I'll make an exception for you, handsome."

Carth smiled sheepishly as he zipped his jacket back up and walked back into the cantina. He wasn't even sure what had gotten into him. A whole list of things explanations popped into his mind, _"It's the stress. My nerves are completely on edge, I'm exhausted from lack of sleep and I probably have too much adrenaline running through my system. Yeah, that's what it is…"_ He ran a hand through his messy hair to tame it down some as he made his way to the bar. The bartender saw him approaching and gave him a knowing look as he set a drink on the bar in front of Carth.

Carth drank down some of the spiced ale before noticing that a crowd of men had gathered in the bounty office. "What's going on in there?"

The bartender smiled. "One very hot performance, my friend. A Twi'lek and a Human are auditioning for the Starlight Entertainers."

"That good, huh?"

"If I didn't have to man the bar, I'd be front and center right about now," the bartender admitted. "I sure hope the security feeds are working. I gotta make a copy of that performance."

"You remember the girl I was with earlier? Dark hair, lots of attitude and wearing Echani battle armor, the one who was talking to Mission Vao?"

The bartender's smile blossomed into a lewd grin. "Like I will ever forget." Carth's crooked a brow, uncomfortable with the way the bartender had gone from friendly to leering at the mention of Rhyska.

Carth was almost afraid to ask. "You know where she is?"

The bartender nodded to the crowd of bar patrons and bounty hunters. Carth cursed and got up. He muttered to himself about how she really did take as much looking after as a nerf. The entrance of the bounty office was so packed he couldn't get in. He was about to push his way in when he noticed Holdan standing on one of the bar tables, watching from over the crowd.

Tapping on Holdan's boot to get his attention, he asked, "Have you seen my friend?"

Holdan shook his head as though dazed. Not wanting to tear his eyes away from the show in the bounty office, he replied cryptically, "A lot more now than I did before."

Carth frowned. "What in the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Holdan pointed to the crowd and suddenly Carth got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Climbing on to the table with Holdan, he looked through the crowd for Rhyska, but all he saw were guys and aliens. Every last one of them was watching the dancers with rapt fascination. When Carth's gaze finally landed on the dancers, he momentarily forgot who he was looking for. An alluring Twi'lek with distinctive orange and peach coloring was dancing with a human female with long dark hair. He watched appreciatively as they danced together.

Of the two, he found it especially difficult to pull his gaze away from the dark haired dancer. He hadn't seen them dance from the beginning, so he had no idea what she looked like, but what he saw he liked. His gaze wandered lazily to all the parts her costume didn't cover, like her toned arms, lean legs, and taut belly. After the heated interlude with Saphiel the waitress, it wasn't difficult to imagine the parts her costume did cover. Especially with Holdan next to him mumbling incoherently, "If I were to be spaced out of an airlock right now, the only thing I would demand is one friction dance with that woman!"

"Seriously," Carth agreed. As the girls started into what looked to be their final dance. Holdan turned to look at Carth incredulously.

"You were all over me earlier when I tried to score some play with her and now you're all right with it?" Holdan demanded confusedly. "Are you drunk or something? 'Cause if you're going to pass out, that would be just fantastic."

"What the hell are you going on about?" Carth asked irritably. At that moment, he watched as the dark haired dancer's face came into view—then he promptly fell off the table.

* * *

**Author Note:** Feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	11. Gang Wars

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

* * *

**Gang Wars**

The stroll down the walkway to the Hidden Bek base was extremely awkward. Rhyska glanced at Carth from time to time, lips pursing as she recalled his attitude when she had last seen him in the bounty office. _He had seemed all right_. _Impatient, but what else was new?_ She watched as he scanned the path ahead for Vulkars or other armed assailants, silent and perturbed. Try as she might, she couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. _Weird_ didn't quite seem to cover it. When she'd met up with him at the bar he hadn't asked her a single question.

"_Let's get out of here"_ was his terse response when she had found him.

Before they left, the bartender had charged Carth for his drinks, but had waived hers off and flashed her a toothy grin. "On the house, love. Come back anytime."

Rhyska was certain that Carth was going to ask her what _that_ was all about, but before she could even make excuses, he was already headed for the door.

She was surprised he hadn't asked her where she'd been or what she'd learned from Zax. Most surprising of all was that he hadn't asked why she had two packs instead of one. Explanations for that conversation would have been interesting, if Carth had stuck around.

She headed straight for the refreshers after helping out Lyn, but was accosted by Holdan half way through the tap room. He had gotten grabby and all but propositioned her. Her response had been to twist his thumb back painfully and suggest that he piss off Holdan had backed down pretty quickly and didn't seem too surprised by her answer. He had chuckled nervously and tried to make a joke of it. _"Just teasing, sweet thing! 'Course, if you ever change your mind…you let me know."_ Rhyska had turned on her heel and walked away.

She had exited the refresher in record time, makeup gone, hair pulled back into a pony tail, and body encased back in the Echani armor she had scavenged. She had been glad to find Carth at the bar straight after, but was now confounded by his attitude. For a while, all Rhyska could do was look at him before giving in curiosity and asking, "Are you all right? Did something happen after you left me at the bounty office?"

"Nah," Carth muttered sheepishly, carefully avoiding her gaze. "Nothing."

Rhyska narrowed her eyes. He really was an awful liar. If she didn't know better, she could almost swear that he was embarrassed about something. Then she recalled the silvery haired waitress from the cantina. "Is this about that waitress? She seemed pretty interested in you. Did you crash and burn or what?"

"No! Well, we didn't do anything…much…not because I crashed and burned or anything," Carth replied hastily, tripping over his words. "Never mind! None of that matters. Getting off this rock is top priority. We don't have the time to dally about with people."

"Girls," Rhyska corrected him, a tremulous smile threatened to curve her lips.

"What?" The perplexed expression on his face made Rhyska want to laugh.

"Dallying with girls."

"Whatever!" Carth brushed her off, determined to end the conversation. "The point is we're on a mission. We have to find Bastila and we have to do it fast."

"Right… Of course... The mission…"

Rolling his eyes, Carth stopped in the middle of the hall and demanded, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't get pissed at me for saying so," Rhyska began as Carth muttered, "Here we go…"

"But I couldn't help but notice that you and the waitress seemed to be into one another. She was more than obvious in expressing her interest and you seemed to think she was pretty hot…"

"Let's not go there," Carth insisted.

"I'm just saying," Rhyska pressed on, "if you and she were attracted to one another…"

"Really don't want to talk about it," Carth replied firmly as he began walking again at a faster speed than before.

"I'm just saying maybe if you'd just relax for a second, you and she could have got your groove on." Arching a brow, she pointed out, "Clearly holding back didn't do you any bit of good. Old Kadir's right. You look about ready to unspool."

Stopping, he turned to her and promptly clapped a hand over her mouth. He spoke slowly and clearly, willing her to take him seriously. "There will be no more talking. There will be walking and silence until we get to this base. There will be no more mention of the incident at the cantina and especially no mention of Kadir."

Rhyska pried his hand off her mouth and asked curious and wide eyed, "Incident? You had an incident? Was your, uh, equipment not functioning to your satisfaction? They say stressful situations play a part in those kinds of _incidents_."

"My equipment's just fine!" Carth exploded. "Nothing's wrong in that department at all! Everything works great!"

"Then what the hell did she do to you?"

Throwing his hands in the air he hissed, "Quiet! Blessed quiet! That is all I want!"

"Whatever!" Rhyska muttered as she watched him stomp off, musing to herself, _"There is just no understanding that man."_

It wasn't too long before they came upon the Bek Base. Just as Mission had predicted, a woman was playing lookout for the Beks. Tall and coppery skinned, the guard watched them approach with a steely blue gaze. Braided ebony hair was pulled back from her face and trailed down her back. Her khaki and brown colored body armor emphasized her lean physique and the modified vibroblade hanging at her belt hinted at her accomplishment with melee weapons.

Carth spoke first. "Is this the Hidden Bek base?"

"Depends on whose asking," the guard replied in a soft alto voice.

"We're friends of Mission Vao's," Rhyska supplied. "She said that the Beks were the people to know in the Lower City and that their leader, Gadon Thek, could maybe be the guy to help out a couple of strays—under the right conditions."

The guard who Rhyska could only assume was Lindra, quirked a brow and replied suspiciously, "Well, you know the right name to drop, but I can't let you just walk in. Lots of people know Mission. Knowing her doesn't mean you're friends. For all I know, you're nothing but a Vulkar spy."

"Well, since we've been down here I don't think I've heard any of the Vulkars carry on a decent conversation. Have you, Carth?"

Carth looked at her, somewhat startled, before answering as casually as he could. "Can't say we have. They seem more in the mood to shoot than talk."

"Except for those idiots in Javyar's," Rhyska pointed out. "They tried the whole talking thing with Calo Nord. They're dead now, so I can only assume that they aren't bright enough to carry on a conversation like we have. Seriously, guard lady. We aren't spies. We are way smarter than Vulkars."

Lindra's lips quirked in to a crooked smile and a glint of amusement lit her eyes. "That may be so, but this door is going to remain locked until I'm satisfied that neither of you pose a threat to the Beks."

"We have to speak to Gadon," Carth insisted, willing the guard to bend just this once. "It's important."

Lindra grunted. "It's always important. Everybody wants to talk to Gadon. He's a defender of the common people, but the days of the Hidden Bek's open door policy are gone. Between the Sith conquest and the gang war, the Beks have more enemies than they used to. We're careful about who we let in now."

"Maybe we can be an ally against those enemies," Rhyska said persuasively, her eyes locking on Lindra's.

"Well…" Lindra muttered slowly, her resolve melting away. "We could use the help and you don't look like you're with the Vulkars or the Sith. Besides, it's not like you can do us any harm in the middle of our own base."

Looking hopeful, Carth asked, "Does that mean you're going to let us in?"

With a sigh, Lindra tapped on the door and waved at a security camera outside the Bek base. The outer door slid open and she waved them in. "You may enter. If you still wish to speak to Gadon, I don't doubt you'll have the opportunity. Just remember to be on your best behavior, the Hidden Beks are watching you."

---------------

Upon entering the Bek base, Rhyska understood why there were only Vulkars out on the walkway. The Beks seemed to have undertaken the responsibility of sheltering what looked to be a good portion of the Lower City residents within their base. Rhyska whistled and thought to herself, _"An open door policy would be pointless. People would have to leave before resurrecting that policy."_

The base itself was vast, but the crush of people milling about gave the place a claustrophobic feel. Humans and aliens alike hung out in groups together, playing dice or pazaak. They talked, ate, laughed and argued together. The desolation of the Lower City seemed to fade away within the atmosphere of the Bek base. Despite the cramped quarters and the over-warm heat generated by the proximity of so many bodies, there was an air of security and camaraderie that Rhyska had not seen anywhere else on Taris. She could already tell that whatever else was said about him, Gadon Thek had the confidence of a great many people in the Lower City.

Most of the citizens paid them no mind. They were just another pair of off worlders looking for shelter. The same could not be said for the members of the Bek gang who watched Rhyska and Carth with predatory interest. They prowled their compound diligently, scanning the crowd around them. As much keepers of the peace as they were protectors of their domain, they remained alert to emotions of their guests. Carth tapped Rhyska on the shoulder and nodded in the direction of some Bek gang members who slowly and steadily began to form a loose circle around them. A young human male with red hair and tanned features stared them down. Coming to a full stop, Rhyska nodded to him. "Do you happen to know where Gadon Thek is?"

"Who's asking?"

"Rhyska Nevar. And you are…"

"Delis," he answered, looking intently at her. Rhyska couldn't help but notice that the Bek was eyeing her blaster and vibroblade.

Tiredly, she sighed. Drawing her vibroblade, she unbuckled her utility belt and holster and held them out to Delis. "We just want to talk. That's it."

Delis looked past her at Carth. Rhyska wasn't surprised to find his hands resting on the grips of his blasters and a stubborn expression fixed on his face. "Do you want stay here or do you want to be part of the conversation?"

"Why is that everywhere we go, we end up handing over our weapons?" Carth asked irritably.

"Carth!" Rhyska said sharply as she glared at him. "Make a decision, Flyboy. Participate in the talk or take a walk."

"Well, when you put it like that, gorgeous," Carth grouched. He handed over his blasters, never taking his eyes off of Delis, he warned, "Don't go far."

Delis grinned. "Don't worry. We don't plan to. Follow me."

Delis and two other Beks led them to a small meeting room. The air was fresh and the room uncluttered and sparsely furnished. At the far end of the room, a man sat behind the desk with his feet propped up, and in his hand was a small flat disc. Sitting on the desk across from him was a Twi'lek female with the most unusual coloring Rhyska had ever seen. Her skin was a creamy color with deep purple head tails. Both wore high quality body armor, but the Twi'lek wore enough personal weaponry to be considered a walking artillery. She wore a rocket and dart launcher on her right arm and an arm cuff with throwing knives on the left. Blasters were strapped to both legs and a vibroblade and short dagger hung from her belt. Her eyes were an eerie violet a few shades lighter than her indigo head tails. Like most of her kind, she was beautifully exotic and if her innate dancer's grace was lent to her skill with her blades, then she was deadly as well. As they entered the room the Twi'lek's piercing gaze settled on them. Her hand gripped the handle of her vibroblade as she hopped off the desk and walked towards them. The Beks stopped where they were as she approached and ordered, "That's far enough!"

"Newcomers looking to talk to Gadon, Zaerdra," Delis replied clearly. Under her scrutiny, the Beks stood a little straighter with their chins up. Rhyska wasn't surprised that they were trying to impress both their leader and his apparent second in command. Their leader might look laid back, but there was something in his sly smile and in the way his dexterous fingers flipped the small disc from knuckle to knuckle with ease and familiarity. Rhyska could only guess at his skills, but there was no need for guessing about the Twi'lek next to him. His second was definitely hard core.

Zaerdra nodded to the two lesser Bek members. At her signal, they removed Rhyska's and Carth's rucksacks and set them on a table in the far corner of the room along with their weapons, leaving them in plain sight, but well out of reach. When they were finished, they quietly exited the room. Delis remained, standing sentry just behind Carth and Rhyska.

"Who are you and what is your business with Gadon?" Zaerdra demanded.

"Calm down, Zaerdra!" Gadon chided as he slipped the little disc into a pouch on his utility belt. He set his feet back on the ground and sat up straight. "No one is going to try anything in the middle of our base. Not only is it stupid, it's suicidal. Now relax, or our guests will think we are overly paranoid."

Keeping a wary eye on Carth and Rhyska, she whispered to him, "Not paranoid, simply cautious. After all, keeping you alive is what I do. Besides, you're too trusting, Gadon. Brejik and his Vulkars want you dead and now we've got Sith patrolling the Upper City. It won't be long before they turn their attentions to you."

While they rehashed what seemed to be an old argument, Rhyska took the opportunity to study Gadon. He wasn't much older than Carth and was just as physically fit. His head was shaved smooth and a small silver hoop glinted at his ear. His eyes were his most interesting feature. His irises' odd coloring reminded her of molten liquid durasteel. _"Ocular implants? Mission did say he was blind."_

His strange gaze flicked back and forth between her and Carth before settling back on Zaerdra. "We are not going to start attacking strangers on sight. We aren't Vulkars and we will not stoop to their level. Now let them pass. The sooner they speak their piece, the sooner they'll be gone."

Zaerdra's eyes raked over them as she gave in with a growl. "Fine, you can speak to Gadon. But if you try anything, you'll be vaporized before you can say, _Vulkar spy_!"

Unable to help herself, Rhyska suggested cheekily, "What about hyperventilating Wookiee?" Carth closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

Zaerdra narrowed her eyes menacingly at Rhyska and stepped toe to toe with her, replying in no uncertain terms, "Talk fast."

Wrapping an arm around Rhyska's shoulder and clapping a hand over her mouth for the second time that day, Carth attempted to make excuses for her. "I apologize for my friend. She's suffered _multiple_ head injuries since the Sith arrived. It's affecting her commonsense—what little she has."

Without batting an eye in his direction, Zaerdra growled, "Talk faster."

"Right then," Carth said steering Rhyska around Zaerdra, over to the desk where a very amused Gadon Thek sat.

"So, you want to talk," Gadon began. "To appease my bodyguard, maybe you should start with who you are and what you want from the Hidden Beks."

"I'm Carth and this is Rhyska. We are in need of some assistance."

Gadon chuckled and pointed out, "Yeah, you and everybody else. You don't strike me as local. Are you from off world?"

"Yes, we're stuck here for the duration of the quarantine, but we're looking for a friend."

"Are you now?" Gadon nodded to Rhyska and asked Carth, "You gonna let the kid breathe, son, or were you aiming to suffocate her?"

Carth looked down at Rhyska who looked back at him red faced and glaring. Shrinking a little at the look she was giving him, he carefully let her go and stepped away. She advised him acidly, "If you want to keep that hand, don't do that again."

"Stop pissing people off and I won't," Carth countered.

"It was a joke," Rhyska said. "It's not my fault she has no sense of humor!"

Watching the exchange between the two off worlders made Gadon laugh, drawing stares from everyone. "Actually, Zaerdra has a great sense of humor, but times are rougher than usual. My people just don't laugh as much as they used to, what with the escalating gang wars and the occupation."

"So you do have a problem with the Sith?" Rhyska guessed.

Gadon looked at Rhyska like she was a daft simian. "A foreign army invades Taris, declares martial law and locks down all travel to and from the planet? Damn straight I've got a problem with that!"

"How bad is it down here?" Carth asked.

"Pretty bad," Gadon admitted, "but so far the Sith have stayed out of the Lower City. They secured the elevator that leads down to the Under City. It's where they send most of their patrols."

"That's what we've heard. What we really need is information on those Republic escape pods that crashed into the Under City," Carth replied.

"You want to know about the escape pods?" Gadon arched a brow in curiosity. "The only people I know that have been asking about them are the Sith, but you don't look like Sith."

Zaerdra came to stand beside Gadon and cautioned him, "I agree that they aren't Vulkars, but they might be Sith spies, Gadon."

"Zaerdra, if the Sith thought we knew anything useful they'd have a battalion of troops kicking down our door. I don't think they'd bother with spies at this point, not when they've taken the whole planet."

Carth's eyes grew dark and his voice held an edge. "We aren't friends of the Sith, of that you can be certain."

"Well, the enemy of my enemy is my friend," Gadon replied with a grave smile. "So, you're not locals and you're not Sith." Tapping his fingers on his desk, he vocalized a guess. "If I'm not mistaken, you must be one of those poor suckers that escaped from the Republic ship that blew in orbit."

Rhyska nodded with a wry smile. "Yep, that would be us."

Gadon smiled. "Well, you're luckier than most. Majority of the pods that crashed on Taris didn't have survivors. I take it this friend you're looking for is a fellow soldier?"

Rhyska nodded silently and Carth answered, "Yes, we think she might still be alive."

"Normally, I wouldn't be so free with information, but what I'm about to tell you could cause all kinds of problems for the Vulkars and that's just fine by me."

As Gadon and Carth spoke, Rhyska watched Zaerdra. She looked a little less hostile now that she accepted the fact that they were neither Sith nor Vulkars, but she hovered nearby Gadon, ever wary. She was even more paranoid than Carth. Rhyska wondered if she protected Gadon simply out of loyalty or something more.

"The bad news is that the Vulkars were the first to get at the pods in the Under City," Gadon informed them. "The good news is they found a survivor, a Republic officer named Bastila."

Rhyska looked at Carth who momentarily released his tension when Gadon told him Bastila was alive. It was short lived however; she watched as the tension flooded back into him at Gadon's next words. "Intergalactic slavery is not something we Beks support, but the Vulkars aren't so picky. She's with them right now."

Eyes wide, Rhyska asked incredulously, "Whoa! Bastila's a slave?"

"She's more or less their commodity. Normally, the Vulkars sell to off world slavers or to Davik, but your friend is an officer. Her value is slightly higher than the average slave and from what my spies tell me, she's a looker."

Beside her Carth whispered, "I supposed it could be worse. At least the Vulkars think that she's just another officer. This could still work to our advantage. There might even be a chance that she could escape, somehow."

Gadon shook his head, proving that his hearing was as sharp as his sight. "She's too valuable to leave unguarded with the rest of his crew. If I know Brejik, he's probably got your friend stashed at one of his safe houses and probably under neural restraint. He won't take the chance that she'll escape before the swoop race."

Rhyska's brow furrowed. "Swoop race? What in space has that got to do with anything? And who is this Brejik?"

"Brejik is the leader of the Black Vulkars and I'm afraid your friend has become a pawn in his game to take over the Lower City. He's offering her up as the Vulkars' share of the prize in the annual Swoop Gang Race. By putting up such a valuable prize, Brejik hopes to win the loyalty of some of the smaller gangs. The only thing stopping Brejik right now is numbers. There aren't enough Vulkars to overwhelm the Beks, yet."

Not believing their luck, Carth exclaimed, "Oh, for crying out loud! How in the heck did this get so complicated? We can't leave her with the Vulkars, but we sure as hell can't take on the Lower City Gangs, either! How are we going to get to her?"

"Oh, but you can take on the gangs—in the season opener of the Swoop Gang Race."

Bewildered, Rhyska shook her head. "Win the season opener? We don't even have a swoop bike!"

Gadon smiled slyly at them. "I have several swoop bikes and an idea, if you're game."

Eyeing Gadon warily, Carth asked, "Just what are you proposing?"

"In three days, all the gangs will assemble for the season opener of the Swoop Gang Race. It's strictly for the gangs, unless you have a sponsor, like myself," Gadon craftily pointed out. "Win the race; win your friend's freedom. It's that simple."

"Nothing is _ever_ that simple," Rhyska replied skeptically. "Let's be real. What exactly do you want?"

Gadon slapped his hand on the surface of his desk and exclaimed, "Straight down to business. I knew I liked you, kid! Now, my swoop mechanics developed a special accelerator just in time for the race. It would have blown our competition right out of the running, but the Vulkars stole our prototype."

The leader of the Beks leaned back in his chair and shook his head in disgust. "Those no-good bastards are actually planning on using our own accelerator against us. That thought just does not fly with me. So I'll tell you what. I'll sponsor you in the race and give you the chance you need to get your friend back, _if_ you retrieve our accelerator."

Carth gazed from Gadon to Rhyska and deadpanned, "Thievery…So this request is right up your alley."

Rhyska rolled her eyes at Carth and asked Gadon, "You expect us to just stroll on into their base and tell 'em fork it over? That's a tad bit reckless."

"You could phrase it anyway you like so long as you get the accelerator. I'd find an alternate route though. The front doors are heavily guarded, so I'd recommend going in the back way and I know just the girl to help you get there…Mission Vao."

Zaerdra's violet eyes grew wide. She whipped her head back so fast her head tails went swinging. "Mission?! Gadon, you can't expect her to help them with this! She's just a kid!"

"Mission would want to help," Gadon insisted. "Besides, she's the best qualified. No one knows the Lower and Under City the way Mission and that Wookiee friend of hers does. If there's a back door to the Vulkar base, Mission knows where it is."

The idea seemed sound, but the thought of relying on a fourteen year old didn't sit right with Rhyska, but they had few options. "Do you have any idea where Mission is right now?"

"As crazy as it sounds, those two are probably off exploring somewhere in Under City. They're the only ones who go down there regularly. They're also the only ones that come back up. I guess Wookiees are pretty fierce opponents, even for the Rakghouls." Carth's expressionless face soured at the mention of the mutants.

"Right… So we find Mission, avoid the mutant monsters, break into the Vulkar base, retrieve accelerator, and win swoop race," Rhyska listed off. "Have I missed anything, Carth?"

"Isn't that enough?" Carth griped.

"Actually, there is one thing," Gadon interjected. "Have you got anything to get past the Sith patrol guarding the Under City elevator?"

Rhyska waved off his last comment. "We've got uniforms, so we've got the Sith checkpoints covered."

Gadon shook his head. "Disguises might have worked on the Upper City guards, but the security down here is tight. If you don't have the right paperwork, you aren't going anywhere."

Carth frowned at Gadon and asked suspiciously, "What paperwork?"

"The paperwork my gang found on one of the patrols headed for the Under City," Gadon replied slyly. "I'll trade my security papers for your Sith uniforms."

"You're sure the papers are good?" Rhyska pressed.

"They're golden," Gadon promised.

"You've got a deal, then. The uniforms were claustrophobic anyway."

"Excellent choice," Gadon said with a grin. "Now is there anything else I can do for you?"

"I did have one question," Rhyska admitted.

Gadon nodded. "Ask away."

Holding his gaze, she gestured to her own eyes and asked, "Are those really ocular implants?"

Carth turned to her in disbelief. "You and tact are just not the best of friends, are you?"

Rhyska frowned at him. "What? I was just curious."

Zaerdra's eyes flashed dangerously as she stepped towards Rhyska. "You've got some nerve coming in here and asking such an insulting question! If we didn't need that accelerator, I'd knock you into the middle of next week!"

"Zaerdra!" Gadon stood and set a calming hand on her shoulder. "She didn't mean anything by it and I am not ashamed of my artificial sight."

"I really meant no disrespect," Rhyska said as sincerely as she could. "I've just never seen ocular implants before. They look cool. Can you see in the dark with those babies?"

Gadon threw his head back and laughed. "Actually, I can. I can even read heat signatures. It's quite helpful in determining if someone's lying or wearing a stealth unit. Regular eyes can be fooled, but my new eyes miss very little."

"I'll bet they come in handy. Especially in times like these."

Gadon crooked a brow at Rhyska's comment, staring at her as though he were seeing her for the first time. "It's funny how some people look at me and see a blind man and a cripple. Then other people look at me and see an upgrade and unique new abilities. Positive thinking, Zaerdra. That's what the Beks need a little more of."

Zaerdra rolled her eyes in response. "She can keep her optimism. It's my cynical nature that keeps you alive."

"And don't think that I don't appreciate it," Gadon said to his body guard. Turning to Rhyska and a very relieved looking Carth, he explained, "My sight happens to be the controversy that started this gang war. When I lost my eyes in a swoop racing crash Brejik, my successor, expected me to step aside as leader of the Beks."

"But you didn't," Rhyska finished for him.

"No, I didn't," Gadon confirmed. "My ocular implants more than make up for my lost sight and I didn't think Brejik was ready to step up. He disagreed and left the Hidden Beks for the Black Vulkars. He took control of the Vulkars shortly after and has been gunning for me ever since."

"Sounds rough," Rhyska murmured.

Gadon nodded. "He was like a son to me, but now…I don't who he is."

Not wanting to further irritate Zaerdra, or ask any more personal questions of Gadon, she asked, "Do either of you know if there's any other way off this planet?"

Zaerdra shook her head. "Not while the Sith quarantine is in place. Word from Davik's compound is that any ship leaving Taris' atmosphere without the proper codes will be instantly disintegrated by blaster cannons fired by the Sith's automated targeting system. No one's going anywhere until the Sith say different."

Rhyska sighed and mumbled under her breath, "Blast!"

"There are stronger words than that going around, kid, but yeah pretty much." Looking at both Rhyska and Carth, he held out a hand to them and asked, "So, do we have a deal? Retrieval of our stolen accelerator for the chance to save your friend?"

Carth took Gadon's hand and shook it. "It's a deal. We'll get back your accelerator and I promise Mission will stay safe."

Zaerdra eyed Carth skeptically. "An individual's word is all we have in the Lower City. It's worth more than credits. Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Carth doesn't make promises he can't keep," Rhyska informed her. "If he says he'll look after Mission, rest assured he'd take a blaster shot for her before putting her in danger. Of course, Mission doesn't strike me as the kind of girl who likes people fussing over her or calling her "little girl." We met her in the cantina earlier and I got the impression she's not what one would call docile."

"You have met Mission," Gadon said with a chuckle. "Is there anything else?"

"Actually, there is just one more thing," Rhyska began. "I was wondering if you had a place for us to crash for a few hours. We've been up for nearly a day and a half and we need to rest up a bit."

"Sure, if you don't mind sharing." Gadon waved Delis over and continued. "I think we've got a bunk or two that'll do for you. Delis can show you around. But remember, the swoop race is in three days. Don't be late."

Zaerdra sighed in resignation. "Welcome to the Hidden Beks."

---------------

_Cramped quarters_ had new meaning for Carth as he lay in the bunk staring at the bed above him. The room was small and there were ten bunks lining the walls with two or three people in each bed. Carth tried to idly categorize the twenty some odd people in the room; separating them into couples, friends, children, and families. Some were sleeping. Others were awake and gazing around the room. He wished they'd been granted a room of their own, but the base was packed full of people and he knew there was no room to spare.

He would have been asleep by now if not for the few people around the room wide awake and staring at him. He couldn't bring himself to ignore them. Their eyes strayed in his direction too often for him to be comfortable enough to rest. Their obvious interest in the woman slumbering deeply beside him put him on guard instantly.

When they were first led to this room, Rhyska had climbed onto the empty bed and was out before her head hit the mattress. She was curled up on her side facing the wall, oblivious to everything around her so she missed the whispers about her being the dancer from the Javyar's. Carth had looked spaceward and begged the fates for a little reprieve. He was grateful that Gadon had agreed to watch their rucksacks, ensuring they wouldn't get robbed while the slept. Still, he wished they could have found them a more private place to stay so that he could get a little shut eye. He knew Rhyska was exhausted, but hadn't realized how tired he was until he had remained stationary long enough to let the strain ebb and flow out of him. Unfortunately, between the curious looks from around the room and the scent of Rhyska's hair, he was more than certain he'd be half-dead with exhaustion by morning.

As Carth lay there, he wondered off an on about the intriguing perfume. It was the same fragrance that had pulled him away from the near frantic haze Saphiel had caught him up in. He shifted to his side so that he could better see her. Her back was to him, legs curled close to her, and her head pillowed on her arm. Her hair was still secured into a ponytail, a glossy dark fall separating the two of them.

He wondered what her hair would feel like.

Curiously, Carth reached over and picked up a lock of her hair. It was cool and silken to the touch and slipped easily from his fingers, not unlike water. Everything about her seemed to reflect the fluid motions of water. She adapted from one thing to the next as effortlessly as breathing. He sifted his fingers through her hair, finger combing carefully though the length of it. The light fragrance of blossoms teased his senses as the last few days tension eased out of him. He continued to run his fingers through her hair as exhaustion caught up to him. Carth felt the lids of his eyes grow heavy with sleep and he couldn't stop himself from succumbing. Just before exhaustion finally claimed him, he thought, _"I really shouldn't be doing this…"_

His breathing had become deep and even when Zaerdra had stopped by the room to check on them. The chatter of people talking, children playing on the floor and some men playing pazaak; everything froze when she entered. Her violet gaze swept the room until they rested on the sleeping forms of the would-be retrieval agents. In the main hall, word had spread of the dancer from Javyar's staying with the Beks. She and Gadon hadn't a clue what the ruckus was all about until Ruluu, Javyar's bouncer, had stopped by with a security vid of the performance from the Starlight Entertainer's audition.

As soon as Carth and Rhyska left the room with Delis, Zaerdra rummaged through their rucksacks for the Sith uniforms. She was surprised to find that in one of the three bags, there was nothing but dancing costumes, makeup, and other personal items. Perplexed, Zaerdra wondered, _"What is she going to do with this stuff? Dance the Rakghouls to death?"_ When she and Gadon watched the security feed, she was shocked to find Rhyska auditioning with Lyn, a former waitress from Javyar's.

"If she can fight half as well as she can dance," Gadon murmured as he watched the feed, "we'll have that accelerator back, no sweat."

Zaerdra narrowed her eyes at him irritably as he continued to watch the dancing pair, entranced. "It would be just the dancing you're watching, right?"

Looking up at her, Gadon replied quite seriously, "She's good, but she's not you."

Zaerdra's face warmed under his intent gaze, "Well, so long as we agree."

Gadon chuckled. "I'm going to retire for the night. Do me a favor and drop by their room? Make sure they don't get harassed. I want them ready to go in the morning."

"Sure thing."

Now, as she stood in the room looking down at the sleeping pair, her heart softened a little at the sight of the two of them curled up togeter. The space between them bridged was by the tendrils of her hair, wrapped in his hand.

Looking at the rest of the people in the room she ordered in a low, clear voice, "The off worlders are not to be disturbed, especially pertaining to the performance at Javyar's. This comes directly from Gadon. Understood?"

She had received disappointed groans from some of the men, but otherwise everyone agreed. As Zaerdra walked out of the room, she recalled Rhyska and Lyn's dance moves. Her lips quirked into a rare smile as she recalled the audition vid and thought, _"They were both pretty good—and she danced exceptionally well for a human—but I'm better."_

As she walked towards Gadon's sleeping quarters, she wondered if he was still awake—and if perhaps he was in the mood to see some real dance moves.

**

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Author Note:** As always, many thanks to BrynNevan and Lady Vaguely. To all the lovely people that enjoy the story so far, feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	12. The Depths of Taris

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

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**The Depths of Taris**

The soft chatter of voices and the crying of children pulled Carth back into reality a lot sooner than he would have preferred. His eyes were heavy with sleep and his muscles protested their aches and pains as he slowly came to. Beside him was a warm presence. Its familiarity had been absent from his life for a number of years, until he recalled where he was and who it was that rested beside him. He remembered the fragrant tendrils of Rhyska's hair and the way it felt as it slipped through his fingers just hours before. Foggy with sleep, Carth stretched out his limbs on the bed. As he relaxed his arms over his head, he sighed tiredly. He felt Rhyska shift her weight beside him, coming to curl up against him.

Though the warmth remained, her scent was gone, replaced by an overripe stink Carth couldn't even name. Wrinkling his nose, Carth slowly opened his eyes. His pupils filtered the light of the room and chased the shadows from his sight. When his vision cleared he looked beside him and found himself staring into a pair of watery, blood shot eyes. Carth's brow furrowed and his eyes blinked in confusion at what he saw. The eyes in question were set in the wrinkled face of a crusty, balding old man. The old man gave him a blackened, toothy grin as he patted Carth's chest and rattled out, "I like you, sonny. You don't snore much." Going completely ashen, Carth howled and rolled off the edge of the bed. Scooting back on the floor, he was aware of the other people in the room watching the two of them. Some looked confused, others snickered and laughed.

Getting up, Carth jabbed a finger at the strange little man still lying in the bed and exclaimed, "What the hell?"

The old man cackled crazily and Carth became red with anger. The humor of the joke falling short of its mark, the people in the room went silent and slowly made for the door. Behind him, Carth heard the swish of the door opening and the patter of feet hurriedly exiting the room. What he didn't hear was the soft foot falls coming towards him.

The harshness of a throat being cleared behind him caused Carth to jump and spin around in shock.

"Good morning, sunshine! You sure can clear a room." Rhyska looked around the almost vacant room and looked Carth over, noting the disturbed look on his face as she stated, "So much for well rested. You looked like a bantha spit you up—twice."

Carth was disgusted to find her so bright and cheery, the exhaustion nothing more than a telltale shadow in her eyes. Her saving grace were the two mugs of steamy caffa she held in each hand. The strong aromatic scent of it chased away the pervading smells in the room, including the one wafting off of the old man.

"I brought you some caffa, but maybe you should have mine, too." Rhyska held a cup out to him and muttered, "You sure look like you need it." Behind Carth she heard a rusty cackle break loose. Quirking a brow, she leaned to the side to get a better view of the person behind him.

Sitting on the bed, still cackling and grinning like a fool, was the old man she had asked to watch Carth after she had woken up and decided to grab something to eat. "Carth, what's going on?"

"A question I would like answered myself," Carth hissed as he glared at the little old man.

"He doesn't snore much and he smells good," the old man said with a grin. "I watched him for you, girlie. Just like you told me to, I watched him good."

Rhyska's eyes grew wide and she bit her lip to keep an onslaught of laughter from erupting. She didn't need to know that Carth was glaring at her or that he had gone red in the face.

"Uh, yeah about that," Rhyska began, staggering over her words.

"A word," Carth said tightly as he grabbed her arm and steered her out the room. He shut the door on the freaky old man before starting in on her.

"What the hell?" Carth demanded completely outraged.

"That's kind of vague," Rhyska said quietly. "Maybe you could break it down for me."

"Don't talk to me about breaking stuff down!" Carth hissed. Grabbing a cup of caffa out of her hand, he glared at her as he drank down the black stimulant.

"I woke up." Rhyska shrugged, her eyes avoiding his gaze and her lips quivering with the effort of holding back the fit of laughter trapped inside her. "I was hungry. So I went to go find something to eat."

"Yes, so I just heard. How about we skip on to the part where the old geezer comes into the picture?" Carth gestured to the room and drank down some more caffa, willing his body to wake up faster.

"It's not my fault," Rhyska insisted, fast losing composure. "He seemed normal when I talked to him earlier. I just asked him to keep an eye on you in case you woke up and wondered where I was."

"Right," Carth drawled, trading the empty mug for the full one. "That's why you're busting at the seams trying not to laugh. Do you have any idea what its like to wake up to _that_ in the morning?!"

Unable to contain it any longer Rhyska began to laugh. She laughed so hard her midsection hurt. Carth downed the rest of the caffa before exclaiming, "It is not funny! That old fart was all over me!"

He rubbed his throat and grimaced, thinking that perhaps drinking two hot cups of caffa so fast was not the brightest idea. "You should come with a warning label! By the time we get off this rock I'm going to need a shrink for all the trauma I've suffered through because of you!"

Rhyska just went on laughing. Carth was completely awake now and totally red faced. He imagined that with half the Lower City tucked away in the Bek Base this little tale of horror would spread like wild fire in a matter of minutes. The people passing them by in the hallway were staring at Rhyska's uncontrollable laughter with open curiosity. Others were snickering and avoiding his gaze. Under his breath he muttered, "Great! Just great! If the fleet never hears about this, it'll be a flaming miracle!"

With a huff he tossed the empty cup at her and turned on his heel, intent on collecting their gear. He thundered over his shoulder, "Let's get a move on! We've only got three days before the swoop race. We need to find Mission today!"

"Oh come on, Carth!" Rhyska ran to catch up with him, still chuckling. "Don't be pissed! I only asked him to keep an eye on you and let you know where I was! Hopping into bed with you was his idea entirely."

Carth came to a screeching halt just a few steps ahead of Rhyska, causing her to run smack into the back of him. As he turned around, he leveled her with a single piercing gaze that instantly rendered her silent. "Remember yesterday when I said there would be no more talking?"

Rhyska nodded.

"We're going to do that again," Carth stated flatly. "This is now a no-talking zone. Not a single word!"

He was just about to turn and begin walking again when he stopped short, turned back around and added, "This is also a conversation that no one will _ever_ know about! Are we clear?"

"You said it, Flyboy. Never ever," Rhyska promised with a grin.

Rolling his eyes, Carth let out a ragged sigh and walked the rest of the way to Gadon's office knowing without a doubt that the pain and suffering had only just begun.

---------------

Carth and Rhyska headed out of the Bek base in record time with only the essentials in their rucksacks. Gadon Thek promised to watch over their other gear until they returned with the accelerator. Rhyska recalled the last words he said to her. "Three days, kid. Work fast. Swoop race is up soon!"

They made their way carefully down the dimly lit walkway towards the Under City elevator. Thankfully, they only ran into three Vulkar thugs instead of an army. Carth made good use of the energy shield Rhyska had picked up the day before and fired multiple shots at one Vulkar before pulse blasting at another. Rhyska slipped into stealth mode moving in close enough to slash her vibroblade down through a Vulkar gangster's energy shield, disabling its mini generator. With a couple of well placed slashes, the Vulkar fell dead at her feet. Carth had already finished the other two and slung his blasters back into their holsters.

"Nice shooting, Flyboy," Rhyska said appreciatively as she leaned down and relieved them of their credits and medpacks.

Carth watched her sift through the bodies, hesitantly pointing out, "I'm not saying anything against it, but maybe we won't have a whole lot of time to relieve the newly dead of _all_ their worldly possessions."

Standing up, Rhyska gave him a dubious look and tsked him. "Of course we will. What we won't have time for is dallying around in shops, replenishing our goods. We must make do with what we find."

Carth rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief at her. She was absolutely incorrigible. Rhyska grinned. "I promise you, Carth, we will be in possession of that prototype accelerator with time to spare. Then we'll rescue Baz and then we'll be off this loony rock!"

"You promise, huh?" With a sly smile, he baited her, "I bet you a bottle of Corellian Whiskey that you'll lose. I bet we'll slide right into the Bek base mere hours before the race!"

"Oh yeah?" Rhyska said with a wicked gleam in her eye. "If we get back with the accelerator before the day is over tomorrow…You will owe me a case of Flameout."

"A case?!" Carth sputtered incredulously. "For a case, we should be done before the night is over!"

Rolling her eyes, Rhyska held out her hand. "Fine. Three bottles of Flameout to your one bottle of ridiculously expensive Corellian Whiskey."

Taking her hand, he shook it and grinned. "With you stopping every five minutes to pillage and steal, I'll be drinking whiskey as we fly off into the sunset!"

"You wish, Flyboy!" Rhyska exclaimed. She picked up the pace and pushed forward down the walkway. Carth followed her until she came to a stop near an apartment complex.

In the dimly lit alcove, a human man with dark hair and tanned features seemed to be talking to two Vulkar gang members.

Carth and Rhyska watched from the shadows in silence as the man spoke to the Twi'lek and Rodian gangsters. "A little late with the payments, boys? You know, Davik don't care what gang you're in. You owe him money, you pay up."

"What for? Not like Davik does anything for his share," the Twi'lek said snidely. "We're the ones busting our butts. If he's really an Exchange man, he can come down here and prove it!"

"Yeah," the Rodian snickered. "Let's see the big crime lord get his money from the Black Vulkars!"

The man, who could only be what Rhyska figured was a collection agent, chuckled in amusement. "All right, if you wanna play hardball, we can do that." He put two fingers to his mouth and let out a sharp whistle.

Materializing from the shadows directly across the walkway was a bounty hunter. Rhyska watched him as he strode into view of the Vulkars. He was a tower of man, all sinew and muscle. His peppered hair was buzzed flat and cut close to his head. His features were as cold and hard as stone and his eyes glinted with a predatory intelligence. The bounty hunter didn't miss much. Though his attention was now focused on the nervous looking Vulkars, he was fully aware of their presence. Beside her, Carth kept his hands close to his blasters, ready for anything.

Strangely enough, Rhyska wasn't worried. He was a mercenary, all right. Rhyska got the distinct impression that his view of the world was very narrow, right down to money and target. At the moment, he was being paid to shake down the scrunty little gang members. Unless they gave him a reason, Rhyska suspected he'd have little to say to them. What surprised her about him was that he wore little to no armor, just a simple black sleeveless shirt and cream colored pants. The only real armor he had on were a pair of armor plated shin guards over his knee-high black boots. His gear was well-made and had seen some serious use. He wore a shoulder holster and two utility belts. A blaster hung from his shoulder holster, and a long vibroknife was strapped to his leg. He looked like a bounty hunter should: big, brawny, and he carried a very large repeating canon blaster. She supposed that if he were zeroed in on her she'd be quaking in her boots like the Vulkars.

The Twi'lek stuttered nervously, "Canderous! Oh man, we didn't know you was working for Davik."

The Rodian bobbed his head and held up his hands. "We were just messing around, you know? Here's Davik's cut. We're cool now, right, Canderous?"

"That's what I thought you'd say," the agent said with a chuckle. Double checking the payment, he sneered, "Well, it's all there. Nice doing business with you rejects, now scram!"

The Vulkars shot dirty looks at the agent, but snuck nervous glances at the mercenary who watched them through narrowed eyes. They practically ran down the walkway past where she and Carth stood watching.

The mercenary said in a bored tone, "Too bad. I was kind of hoping they'd start something. It's been awhile since I've cracked heads."

The agent smiled grimly. "With all these punks running around, I'm sure you'll get your chance. I'll run this over to Davik. If anyone else gets cute, I'll give you a call." With a curt nod to the mercenary, the agent went about his business and vanished into the apartment complex.

The mercenary watched him go and said in a conversational tone, "Those Vulkar punks are dumber than Coruscant granite slugs." Turning to look right at Rhyska, he continued, "They seem to be under the mistaken impression that being in that pathetic little gang of theirs makes them important."

Quirking her head to the side, she walked slowly towards the mercenary, Carth close on her heels. As Rhyska came closer to him she saw that his arms bore the marks of some seriously rough living. Thick knots of scar tissue and little silver slivers decorated his arms. She suspected his choice of clothing best showcased his collection of battle scars. His most noticeable scar was a silver tendril that trailed from his left brow, down his eye and to his cheek bone.

His narrowed eyes were sizing her up. She expected him to quip some smart ass comment about little girls wandering around in dimly lit corridors, but instead he said, "At least Gadon keeps his Hidden Beks in line. Brejik's suffering from delusions of grandeur. If Davik's smart, he'll slap that kath hound down and let him know who's boss."

"Word on the street was they were gunning for Gadon. Didn't know they were pissing off Davik," Rhyska said carefully. "Who are you?"

"Someone you don't want to get on the bad side of. I'm also not big on small talk." He considered her carefully and flicked a look at Carth. "Besides, your friend seems a little… tense."

Rhyska turned to look at Carth who had a death grip on his blaster. She was surprised by the look of bitter contempt Carth was focusing on the mercenary. Eyes widening slightly, she put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Ease up, Carth. No one's here to start anything. We've got other things to do. Right?"

Carth never took his eyes off the mercenary, but he did grudgingly take his hand off his blaster. Rhyska sighed and looked back at the mercenary.

Canderous grinned wolfishly at Carth. "Good thing you listened to your girlfriend, Slick. I wasn't kidding about what I said before."

"Call me s_lick_ again and you and I are gonna have problems, Mandalorian!" Carth hissed.

Rhyska smacked Carth in the arm and exclaimed, "We don't have time for this! Or have you forgotten?"

Carth huffed, but reigned in his anger.

"I don't have the time to oblige you anyway, S_lick_. I'm working on a special assignment, so you'll have to excuse me." With a smirk and a nod he was gone, vanishing into the apartment complex.

Rhyska turned to Carth slowly and asked, "What was that about?"

Carth gnashed his teeth in aggravation, his eyes still bright with anger. "Don't you know what he is?"

"A mercenary?"

Glaring at her for seemingly missing the obvious, he spat, "He's a Mandalorian!"

Rhyska shook her head. "So?"

Carth looked at her, completely flabbergasted. "So?! He's a Mandalorian! It's because of scum like him that we're in this mess to begin with!"

"I'm sorry," Rhyska began confusedly. "I thought we were boarded by the Sith. Last I checked the planet was invaded by the Sith. Far as I can tell, that guy's stuck in the same boat as us. So how is it his fault in specific?"

Carth exhaled slowly and Rhyska knew that it took a lot out of him to release his anger. She waited until Carth finally answered her. "If not for the Mandalorians starting the previous war, maybe the Jedi that helped the Republic might not have gone to the dark side. Maybe things might have been… different." He said that last part with a sad kind of longing that Rhyska knew Carth had lost more than just a home world when Malak razed Telos. Carth had lost what he fought for, the things he loved the most.

Rhyska tried to proceed carefully, knowing that the wrong words would put him in a tetchy mood for the rest of the day and that was not something they could afford on their time frame. So she said the safest thing she could think of. "I thought you guys won that war."

"We did," Carth said quietly. "Just barely, but apparently the damage had already been done. We just didn't know it."

"Well, let's get going." Nudging the conversation in a different direction, she reminded him, "Remember, we've got an accelerator to recover and Baz to save by the end of tomorrow so that you can buy me three bottles of Flameout. Let's stop by this apartment complex and pick up some supplies!"

"Yeah, fine by me," Carth replied. "The more time you waste acquiring supplies, the more likely it is you'll be buying me my Corellian Whiskey!"

"Yeah right, Flyboy!" Rhyska exclaimed as she entered the apartment complex. Though Carth's eyes were narrowed at her and his tone somewhat chiding, Rhyska could tell that reminding him of their little bet amused him. At the very least, it took his mind off the Mandalorian mercenary. _"Canderous,"_ she thought to herself as she recalled his name. For some strange reason she was certain that she'd be seeing him again.

---------------

Rhyska raided and pillaged as quickly as she could, leaving behind large unwanted items and going straight for the credits, grenades, the occasional spare part or computer spike. She imagined that this complex was mostly empty because the inhabitants were all hanging out at the Bek base, which didn't make her feel guilty in the least. This was a rough neighborhood; if these people had anything of value, they took it with them. What they left behind wasn't important and therefore were completely acceptable targets for re-supplying. Besides, she didn't take everything, just what she felt she needed.

Carth stood by the doors, keeping an eye on the hallway just in case. Already they had run into several gang members. Apparently, she wasn't the only one with the bright idea of filching goods from empty apartments. Dealing with them had been easy, mainly because they were running around in pairs instead of whole gangs. Rhyska collected energy shields from their corpses and what few credits they carried.

When he wasn't teasing her or playing lookout, he watched her with detached interest as she went about picking and choosing what she thought they would need for the Under City. He'd seen a couple of items he thought she'd go for, but she'd opted to stick with the basics. She never passed up medpacks or energy shields. Occasionally, she gave him upgrade parts she'd found, which if he could find a work bench, would come in handy for his blaster. He honestly didn't know what she was going to do with all the parts or computer spikes, but he knew better than to ask. Life was just easier if he didn't harass her about her what she chose to burgle. _"Besides,"_ he thought to himself. _"The longer she takes, the closer I get to my whiskey!"_

They came to a room that gave Rhyska some pause. Unlike the others, it was sparse, but a great deal cleaner. Beside a desk was a mined strongbox. Rhyska studied it carefully for a few moments before deactivating the mine and resetting it. "Well, this might come in handy for later," Rhyska said as she put the mine in a separate utility pouch hanging off her belt. "But this might take a minute."

"That's an Alderaanian strongbox," Carth informed her. "They're the best. Not only is it indestructible, you can't pick the lock. No way can you break into that."

Rhyska tapped the keypad and was rewarded by an electronic voice, "Confirm identity please." The computer asked a series of personal questions which Rhyska didn't bother to answer. Turning around, she went to the desk and began skimming the personal data files of a person called Elam. She was just about to give up when she came across an old letter. Really old. Everything else was newer and up to date until about last week. _"Sith occupation,"_ she decided. Pulling up the letter and began reading it. By the end of the letter, she was grinning. Walking over to the strongbox, she tapped on the keypad. The computer activated and proceeded to ask some basic personal questions.

Carth listened as Rhyska rattled off answers from the old letter. Shaking his head, he began, "I'm telling you, you're never..." He was suddenly interrupted by the strongbox's computer, _"Identity confirmed. Welcome, Elam."_ The following sounds emitting from the strongbox were of the locks disabling.

Popping open the lid, Rhyska chortled in delight as she pulled out an extra blaster, a seriously modified piece of Republic battle armor, and hundred beautiful credits. "Thanks, Elam!" Rhyska said in a singsong voice.

Carth watched her with an expression of disbelief. He had a strongbox just like that one, with some similar questions, too. It galled him to think how easy it had been for her to crack it. _"If I ever get home, I really should invest in voice locks."_

She tossed him some more adrenal stims, another medpack, and some armor reinforcements. She hooked another vibroblade to her belt and practically skipped to the next apartment with her fast growing hoard. Carth shook his head, not quite believing how easily he had accepted playing the part of larcenous accomplice. He missed being a star pilot. Things were so simple then, find target and obliterate. Here, everything was complicated.

He was just about to follow her into the other apartment when she quickly came rushing out. He immediately grabbed for his blasters, but was surprised when she tossed her rucksack at him instead. "Watch my stuff. I'll be right back."

Juggling his blasters and her rucksack awkwardly, he asked, "What's up?" Carth noted that her gleeful pillaging façade had disappeared.

"I'm not taking anything from this apartment, but I do need to look at something, so wait out here, okay?"

"You got it." He watched her vanish back into the room and wondered what made her so anxious.

---------------

When Rhyska had first tried to splice into the room she was surprised to find that it wasn't locked. She also noted that this room in particular was really well-furnished and clean. Compared to all the other rooms she had been in, it was _really_ clean. It also looked as though no one had ever broken into this room, ever, which put her on guard instantly. The only reason this room would be so pristine was that whoever stayed here was an individual no one wanted to mess with. The reason they never locked it was because no one was dumb enough to break in.

She had rushed out and dropped all her gear with Carth and carefully retraced her steps in the room. Touching nothing, she scanned the room carefully, her eyes settling on the desk. Taking care to splice into the database, Rhyska searched through all the files until she came across one called Ulgo. There were lists of planets and numbers on each planet. Taris was listed as one of the planets, but its number was zeroed out.

In her head she remembered the conversation she had with Zax and what he had said about the assassin Selven. _"She's very good at her job. Each day more Ulgos died and no amount of money could buy guards or droids to protect them. By month's end, there were no Ulgos left in Taris. Not one."_

She stared hard at the hollow digit next Taris and then stared at all the other planet with numbers. She didn't know for sure, but they could have been possible relatives of Trask. Zax's voice rumbling into her head, _"If not for this occupation, Selven would already have made her way off world to finish off the rest of the family."_

Grimly, Rhyska turned off the file and covered her tracks, making sure to wipe her prints from the console. She exited the apartment and closed the doors. She walked back to Carth and collected her rucksack from him. "Let's get out of here."

He frowned and looked concerned, but said nothing as he followed her down the hall. When Carth couldn't stand the silence any longer he asked, "Whose apartment was that?"

"Selven's."

Carth's brows rose. "The assassin?"

"Yup."

"Talk in the cantina is that she's as hard to kill as Bendak." Carth looked at Rhyska. "Are we planning on taking her contract?"

His question burned the image of Selven's hit list into her mind. As the silence stretched out between her and Carth, Rhyska recalled the last moments of Trask Ulgo from her memory. The way he looked just before he took on the Dark Jedi aboard the Spire. Resolved was a good word to describe Trask. Determined, until the very end. Until he stupidly threw himself between her and a dark Jedi. She supposed that it was only fair that she throw herself at a top rated assassin.

Rhyska took a side-long glance at Carth. He was still waiting for her response. She didn't imagine he would be too thrilled with her answer. She wasn't sure how high his moral ground was yet, but she was fairly certain that he wouldn't be thrilled with any task that didn't help them find Bastila and get off this rock faster. Of course, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him and besides, she owed it to Trask.

With a blank face and a neutral tone, Rhyska murmured evenly, "I've been told that taking her contract is inadvisable."

Carth frowned at her vague reply. It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no either. He was just about to ask her when Rhyska stopped short of the apartment complex's exit. She was staring just a little farther down the hallway. Carth followed her line of sight until he saw two Rodians and the back of a bounty hunter. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't just any bounty hunter, but Mr. One-Two-Three himself. They edged along the wall as close as they dared to get a better look at what was going down.

The Rodians didn't seem too concerned about the bounty hunter—until one of them asked in a rather aggravated tone, "Is there a reason you're following us around, little man?"

Rhyska spied a tell-tale twitch on the right side of his Calo Nord's face as reference to his physical stature was once again insulted.

The other Rodian turned a grayish green color when he finally recognized bounty hunter. Turning to his friend he exclaimed, "Shut up, Lugro! Don't you know who that is? It's that bounty hunter, Calo Nord." The other Rodian blanched upon realizing his mistake, but too late.

"There's a bounty on your little green heads," Calo informed them with a feral grin. "And I'm here to collect!"

The tactless Rodian sputtered, "The only way you're collecting that bounty is over our cold, dead bodies!"

"Works for me!" Calo exclaimed as he pulled his blasters and shot them down. The Rodians never stood a chance. The first blasts caught the insulting Rodian right between his big buggy eyes. The smarter Rodian had turned tail and made a break for it. Unfortunately, he wasn't quick enough. He caught several blaster shots to the back before falling down dead.

Satisfied at acquiring his targets, Calo slid his blasters back into their holsters, turned on his heel, and calmly exited the complex without so much as a nod in their direction. For a moment both Rhyska and Carth remained silent. Carth broke the silence first with a quiet whisper. "Is it just me or does implying the guy is short set him off on a murderous rampage?"

Rhyska shook her head emphatically. "Nope, it's not you. He's definitely got some issues!"

"Should we get going?"

"Nah." Rhyska shook her head. "Let's give him enough time to be far, far away from here."

"The longer we wait here, the more likely it is that I'll be drinking whiskey."

"Keep dreamin', Flyboy," Rhyska scoffed. "I got all the time in the universe and then some. We'll make it with time to spare just like I said, but first…we'll give it another minute or so."

---------------

When Carth had asked, "Can we go now?" for the fifth time in as many minutes, Rhyska had just about smacked him. _"Honestly," _she thought to herself. _"The man needed to learn a little patience!"_ With an irritable sigh she had given in and the two of them exited the apartment complex. They tentatively scanned the walkway for the short-fused bounty hunter before continuing on towards the Under City elevator, which turned out to be just around the corner.

Despite the fact that Calo Nord was nowhere in sight, the sounds of blaster fire could be heard nearby. She and Carth hurried down the bend of the walkway and found a group of Black Vulkars taking potshots and tossing grenades at the Sith trooper guarding the elevator door. He was sorely outnumbered, but the Sith trooper was backed up by two automated carbonite projectile canons. Had the Vulkars not been smart enough to stay out of range, it might have done some damage. Unfortunately for him they stayed well out of range and continued heckling him from afar. Hiding behind the remnants of a swoop bike, the trooper returned fire and cussed up a storm at the Vulkars.

Neither the Vulkars nor the Sith trooper noticed Rhyska and Carth standing near the entrance of the room. Beside her, Carth said in a hushed voice, "There's only six of them and they don't even know we're here. We can take them."

Putting a hand on Carth's shoulder, she whispered, "Now is the time for a less subtle intervention." Before he could protest or stop her, Rhyska threw two frag grenades at the cluster of unsuspecting Vulkars and watched as they went off. Shrapnel fragments flew every which way, tearing into the Vulkars.

When the dust had settled, not a single Vulkar was left standing, only a pile of cut up corpses. Carth surveyed the wreckage and shook his head. "You really can't go a day without blowing something or someone up, can you?"

"What?" She flashed him her best _"Who me? I'm totally innocent!"_ look and said as sweetly as she could, "Carth, I honestly don't know what you mean by that. I was merely making up for lost time."

"Sure you were."

"Besides, we need to conserve our strength and energy for the rabid, mutant monsters. You remember them, don't you?"

Carth's face soured at the mention of the Rakghouls. "Like I could forget?"

Rhyska flagged down the Sith trooper and hollered, "Hey, buddy! Don't shoot, all right?"

Peeking his head out from behind the swoop wreck, he hollered back, "Are they dead?"

"Very! Say, can we approach or what?"

Standing up, he gripped his rifle and looked them over. Turning to the automated canons, he transmitted the signal for stand down before waving them over.

"Thanks for that," the trooper exclaimed. "No way was base command going to send me help."

Carth gave the Sith a tight smile and said, "It was all her."

"So is that the elevator that goes down into the Under City?"

Though they couldn't read his expression behind his bronze helmet, the way his head was tilted implied that he didn't seem too keen on answering the question. "Well, yes but…"

"Would you mind terribly if we used the elevator," Rhyska interjected.

"It's not that I don't appreciate your assistance with that bunch of street punks, but I can't just let you through. Only people with official Sith business are allowed into the Under City. Unless you have the proper security papers, I can't let you pass."

"Well, I've got my papers right here." Rhyska handed him the documents.

"Oh, let me have a look. Hmm…" After looking over the documents he nodded. "These seem to be in order. Okay, you can go down if you want."

"Thanks." Rhyska waved goodbye to the trooper as she and Carth walked into the elevator. "The sooner we get down there, the sooner we get back, you know?"

"Yeah, I've smelled some of the troopers that did make it back. Those sewers are something else!" he replied with a nervous laugh. "Can't say I envy you though, the Under City is crawling with mutants. Rakghouls they call 'em. If you see anything movin' down there, shoot first and ask questions later."

"We'll do that," Rhyska promised and then gave him a jaunty salute. "See you around, kid."

The Sith trooper waved back at her and then went back to guard stance as the elevator fell closed.

Rhyska felt her stomach flop as the elevator descended at a fast pace. Carth had been unusually silent during her conversation with the trooper. Looking over at him, she asked, "What's eating you?"

"That Sith trooper sounded young."

"Yes, he did."

"He even sounded half decent."

Rhyska nodded. "Probably was."

"You know, he reminds me of me and my buddies when we first signed on with the Fleet."

"When you were younger, dumber, and still had ideals?" Rhyska teased.

"Not that much younger, thank you very much," Carth said indignantly, rising to her bait. "And I still have ideals. It's just that he didn't sound like those other Sith, the ones from the party. He could have been just anybody. He could be doing whatever it is that kids do these days."

For awhile he was silent. Then out of the blue, he asked, "Why does he have to be here? Why does he have to be on the Sith's side?"

"Don't beat yourself up over other people's choices, Carth, or why the road they took led them here," Rhyska chided softly. "You'll make yourself all moonbrained thinking like that."

Carth looked at her and for a moment Rhyska could see shadows in his eyes, the toll of wars past and lives taken. Despite being broken over and over, Carth had found the strength to remake himself, to keep going. As she looked at him now, some of that strength faded out of him as he recalled who he had been and mourned for that loss of self. She wished there was something she could say to make him feel better, but the truth was no one could reclaim those indefinable things swallowed by the past.

In her experience, there was only this moment in the present. The future was all the moments after and Rhyska figured if she could make each moment more memorable and better than the next, then not even the things lost to the past would bother her so. Of course, few things bothered her. Her moral compass swung every which way depending on the situation at hand. With a small smile, she supposed what bothered her and what bothered Carth were really two completely different things.

He watched her suspiciously as her smile blossomed into a full blown grin. "Cheer up, Carth! Pretty soon we'll be able to blow up some Rakghouls."

Carth rolled his eyes and sighed. "Is that your solution to everything?"

Rhyska nodded unapologetically. "Yeah, pretty much."

**

* * *

Author Note:** As always, many thanks to BrynNevan and Lady Vaguely. To all the lovely people that enjoy the story so far, feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	13. The City of Outcasts

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

* * *

**The City of Outcasts**

The elevator came to a jarring stop when it reached the bottom. The doors slowly slid open, revealing a small fort-like settlement within a dreary and cavernous world. No sooner had Rhyska and Carth stepped out of the elevator to assess their surroundings were they accosted by two wild eyed beggars. The taller of the two men pointed a bony finger at them and hollered, "This is our elevator!"

Automatically, Carth drew his blasters and Rhyska unhooked her vibroblade, forcing the beggars back far enough for them to clear the elevator doors.

"Is that right?" Rhyska drawled as they stepped forward. "Well, no worries, my stinky friends. We were just borrowing it. If you don't mind, we'll be on our way."

The taller of the two beggars rushed up to the tip of her blade and hissed in desperation, "You won't be going anywhere, up-worlder! Not until you pay the toll."

Rhyska arched a brow at the two beggars and pulled her blade back, resting it on her shoulder as she considered the desperate men in front of her.

Beside her, Carth stared down the barrels of his blasters at the two of them and cursed, "You've got to be kidding me! Please tell me these idiots aren't really trying to shake us down."

Extending a grubby hand, the short beggar demanded, "Five credits for the use of our elevator!"

"That would seem to be the case," Rhyska answered Carth irritably. Hooking her vibroblade back into her belt, she fished out a five-credit chip and warned the beggars, "All right, here's the pay for your toll, but I'm warning you now—do not mess with us."

Their eyes followed the movement of her hand as she waved the shiny credit about. They nodded eagerly at her warning, but Rhyska doubted they heard her. She tossed the credit into the air towards them.

The beggars scrambled to catch it, shoving at each other. In their frenzy, the credit slipped by them and fell to the ground. Rhyska glanced at Carth who shook his head and holstered his blasters. They were about to step away from the two men when the shorter man stood, clutching the credit to him. His friend looked a little disgruntled at losing the credit, but was a little less hostile when short beggar chortled, "Credits, my brother! Now we can eat!"

"Hush, fool! Not so loud. You don't want anyone stealing our credits, do you? We must hide it."

The shorter beggar was nodding emphatically when the voice of a young girl cried out angrily, "Not again! How can you two shame us so? Get out of here!"

The beggars cagily eyed the girl running towards them and scurried off before she could reach them. Rhyska and Carth watched the whole thing, bemused. The girl was young, still in her teens. Her dark hair was twisted into dreadlocks that fell to the middle of her back. She was pale and gaunt. Her dark, round eyes were the most overwhelming feature in her heart-shaped face. Her threadbare and patched-up, greenish tunic hung off her small frame in such a way that Rhyska was tempted to give the girl a good feeding. Yet, despite living in what looked to be a less than pleasant environment, the girl's eyes sparkled with curiosity and excitement. When she reached them, she smiled sheepishly. "I'm awful sorry about that. I should have kept a better watch on the elevator. Most of the outcasts down here are good people, but those two are newly cast down and don't know better yet."

Carth gave her a small smile and said, "I've no doubt that there's a lot of really good people down here, miss. It's just too bad that particular welcoming committee is the first to greet your visitors. Sort of leaves a bad first impression."

Rhyska watched as the girl's face fell. Shaking her head, she smacked Carth in the shoulder. "Public relations really isn't your strong suit, is it? Are you trying to make her cry?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Carth insisted. "I was just saying…"

Rhyska rolled her eyes at him and turned back to the girl. "Please excuse us. We're not from around here. The one with his foot in his mouth is Carth and I'm Rhyska. And you are…"

"My name is Shaleena," the girl said hesitantly. "He's right though. If I'd kept a closer eye on the elevator they wouldn't have bothered you. Visitors from the Upper City are rare, but more visitors have passed through our village in the last few days than the whole of this past year."

"That many, huh?" Carth flashed Rhyska a worried look.

"You're from above, aren't you? I bet compared to this place, it's beautiful." Rhyska couldn't help but notice that Shaleena looked a bit starry-eyed when she murmured that last part.

"Looks are deceiving," Rhyska muttered.

"What?" Shaleena blinked in confusion.

"Yes, the Upper City is quite nice. The people, not so much," Carth clarified.

"Oh…" Shaleena still seemed a little confused by their answers, but smiled brightly non-the-less. "I was born down here so I've never seen the sun, the sky, or the stars, but I'm sure they are wonderful."

"Well, now I'd have to agree with you there. The stars are pretty," Rhyska began. "You mentioned that quite a few people have come through here."

Shaleena nodded. "Men in bronzed armor were the first to come down the elevator. They didn't say so, but it seemed like they were searching for something. They spoke with our leader and then they went into the Under City. Groups of them have been coming in and out for days now. A group of mercenaries came down an hour or so before you did. They didn't ask Gendar any questions. They just headed straight for the Under City."

Rhyska smiled—Shaleena was being very helpful. If the upper city crowd had been half as helpful, they'd have found Baz by now. "Would your leader know anything about escape pods crashing into the Under City?"

"Gendar would know more about them. He knows everything that goes on in our village. Even if the mercenaries didn't speak to him, I'm sure he knows who they are."

"Fantastic," Carth said, turning on the charm. "If it's not too much trouble, could you take us to Gendar? We're a little pressed for time and you've been such a great guide."

Shaleena blushed at Carth's compliment and stuttered, "Of course. Just follow me."

As they followed Shaleena, Rhyska began asking questions about the life in the Under City. "What can you tell us about your village?"

"Well, I was born here. My parents were banished to the Under City many years ago. Like most of the ones banished here, they don't like to talk about why. Life is rough down here, but we survive."

"So basically everyone here is an outcast or a descendant of one," Carth said softly. "That's harsh."

Shaleena smiled sadly. "It's easier for me and the ones born down here, since we've never known anything different. Some, like the two you met at the elevator, have become bitter, but most of us are good people despite what our ancestors may have done."

"You are awesome," Rhyska stated with an encouraging smile.

With a grin, Shaleena began pointing out different places in the small camp. At the edge of the camp, was a gated wall that separated the village from the Under City. Between the elevator and the fence colored tents gathered together in little groups around the city. Off the path from the elevator was a healer's station and what looked to be a holding pen. At the center of the camp, Shaleena pointed out a smarmy-looking character. "That's Igear, he's our trader. If you trade with him, you must watch him. He's not always honest."

Rhyska tilted her head to the side and murmured, "It couldn't hurt to see what he's got." Not waiting for an answer from either Carth or Shaleena, she walked over to the beady-eyed little trader. His little encampment was cluttered with salvage of all kinds, boxes stacked haphazardly all over.

Like most of the outcasts wandering about, Igear had noticed her long before she had noticed him. He pointed to her and said, "You're from Upper Taris, ain't ya?" With a greedy smile, he deduced, "Loaded with credits I bet."

Shaleena came to stand beside Rhyska and warned him, "Igear, you better trade fairly with them or Gendar will know about it."

"Oh, yes," Igear sneered. "Run and tell Gendar! You always do!"

Shaleena's bright and sunny personality faded and was replaced by a look of intense dislike. _"Good thing she's not armed,"_ Rhyska thought to herself.

"You sure you wanna deal with this guy? He looks as slippery as a slug," Carth warned her. "I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him."

Looking at Carth, she replied sarcastically, "You think?"

"This is my salvage shop," Igear said in an oily voice. "Unless you feel like taking the elevator back up, you'll be doin' business with me."

Rhyska eyed him narrowly. "Well, seeing as we've got a schedule to keep, I suppose I will be doing business with you. Got any antidotes or medpacks?"

Igear rubbed his hands and pretended to think about his answer. "Let me see if I have any in stock."

While he searched his boxes for antidotes and medpacks, Rhyska tried fishing for some information. "Out of curiosity, how are you able to run a store down here in the Under City?"

Igear looked up abruptly, but quickly turned his face back to the task at hand as he answered her question. "The other villagers bring me their useful salvage and sometimes I trade with the members of the lower city gangs."

"Gangs, huh?" Rhyska picked up a broken component from a nearby box and fiddled with it. Igear hurriedly brought her his small supply of medpacks and antidotes.

"Break it and you buy it," he hissed.

Rhyska quirked a brow at him and tossed the component back to him. "So when you say you trade with the gangs—are you really saying that you trade with the Vulkars?"

Igear watched her with wary black eyes. He flicked his gaze between her and Shaleena, who had crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot impatiently. Rhyska could tell he was mentally weighing the consequences of his answer. With one last look at Shaleena he admitted, "We can't afford to be picky. Besides, they always check to see if I've got what they need before heading to the surface. I usually trade for medpacks, food, but occasionally when I get in the really good salvage, the gangs will pay me with credits."

"So, how often do they come down the elevator?" Carth asked.

Shaleena frowned pensively. "I've never seen any of the Vulkars use the elevator. When I see them, they come from the village gate, from somewhere in Under City."

"Bah! I'm not interested in how they get here, I only care about the goods they want to trade," Igear replied flatly.

"Well, we've got some other questions." Carth stared hard at the shifty little man.

Shaking his head emphatically, Igear insisted, "Take your questions to Gendar. I trade for goods. That is all I do."

"Oh? Sounds like you and Gendar don't get along very well," Rhyska pressed.

"Gendar thinks that I should share my profits with the rest of the village, but I don't. I'm the one who runs the store. I'm the one who makes the deals. The others just bring me salvage to trade with the up-worlders," Igear ranted selfishly. "Why should they get anything?"

"Here's a thought," Rhyska began, "if they don't provide you with salvage, you won't be trading anything. You might be selfish and petty, but there has to be more to it than that."

"There is," Shaleena whispered darkly.

"Oh, all right!" Igear hissed. "Gendar caught me hoarding food packs awhile back. I thought that I could barter food for favors. With enough favors, I might have gotten people to follow me instead of him."

"We lost two people to hunger," Shaleena accused.

"They were old and near death. Who's to say that they wouldn't have passed on even with the food?"

"We'll never know," Shaleena harshly.

Avoiding Shaleena's glare, Igear finished his story. "Gendar found my hoard and made me share it. He hasn't trusted me since. He only keeps me around because of my store. Without it this village wouldn't last and he knows it."

Rhyska flashed Igear a disgusted look as she tossed him a couple of credits for the antidote packs.

"Maybe it's best you stick with minding the store," Carth suggested sarcastically. "Less complicated…"

Igear ignored their remarks and looks of revulsion. Instead, he greedily pocketed his credits, not in the least bit remorseful.

---------------

As they walked around, Rhyska studied the camp and the people around them. The outcasts huddled together by campfires for extra warmth, eating and talking. The few children she saw ran and played, not in the least bit hampered by their dour surroundings. The adults that walked by gazed at them warily. It was difficult to miss the hard lines in their faces. Few good things happened in the Under City, that much was obvious.

Carth nudged her, bringing her attention back to Shaleena who was directing them towards the only colorful tent in the entire encampment. _"Easy way to track down who's in charge,"_ Rhyska thought to herself. Beneath the tent, several outcasts stood by a dark-skinned man with a goatee. Like the others, he wore a rough tunic and pants. The difference between him and his people was that his gaze wasn't wary, it was piercing. Right now, those piercing eyes were set on her and Carth.

"Looks like we're the talk of the town, Carth." She nodded towards the group.

"At least they aren't armed and running us down," Carth pointed out. "I had my fill of that from the gangs in the Lower City."

Tugging on Carth's jacket sleeve, Shaleena pointed out the leader of the Outcasts. "That's Gendar right there. He'll be able to help you."

Carth smiled at her. "Well, thanks for showing us around."

"If you wander through our village later, come back and see me, okay!" Shaleena said as she walked back to the elevators.

"Count on it!" Rhyska promised with a wave.

Carth sighed impatiently. "I've got two words for you. Corellian whiskey."

"Yeah?" Rhyska said sweetly. "What. Ever. There's two words. Come on. Let's talk to the head man."

They were making their way to Gendar's tent when an elderly gentleman accosted Rhyska.

"You are from the world above! Is this the time of destiny then? Is this a portent of the salvation of my people or merely another false sign to mislead us from the path?" Rhyska went still as the old man continued to rant waving his walking stick about. "Are you the herald of prophecy, the beacon to guide us through the darkness? Or are you merely another harbinger of shattered dreams and unfulfilled promises?"

The gibbering old man was bent over with age and covered in wrinkles. Wisps of white hair barely covered his balding head and robes of dirty cream and rust hung from his bony frame. At the end of his rather colorful speech he leaned heavily on a walking stick and looked ready to keel over. Rhyska recalled Shaleena mentioning an eccentric old man named Rukil, though crazy seemed a more apt description. Despite having promised that she'd be patient if she ran into him, she couldn't stop herself from being amused by the weird old coot.

Carth eyed him warily, as though he were a bomb waiting to be set off. "How about we just pass this geezer on by."

Rhyska was just about to side step Rukil when he grabbed on to her arm and beseeched her, "Tell me what fate you will unleash upon us! Salvation or damnation?"

Rhyska tried to gently free herself from his grasp, but he clung to her arm tenaciously. Not wanting to cause a scene, Rhyska cleared her throat as the old man waited expectantly for an answer. "Pops, I don't plan on unleashing anything. I think you have me confused with someone else."

"Confused, bewildered, perplexed... Understandable, I suppose. I have lived a hundred years, but every now and then even I become confused. Perhaps I can make things more clear for you," he replied somewhat lucidly. "I am Rukil, the oldest here in the village."

"That's nice of you to offer." Patting him on the shoulder, she tried once more to slip away. "We're actually hoping to speak to Gendar. I'm sure he's around here somewhere. Sorry we bothered you."

"Wait, up-worlder!" Rukil cried grabbing a hold of Rhyska's arm once more. "I've a favor to ask of you."

Rolling her eyes, Rhyska looked at him suspiciously. "A favor? What kind of favor?"

Rukil looked at her with wide, sad eyes and spoke in a storyteller's voice, "There was a time I was honored for my wisdom, but now I am regarded as a fool. Once, we all followed the true path to the Promised Land, but my people's belief dwindled until only my apprentice believed. Now, she too is gone."

Rhyska arched a brow at Carth, her eyes pleading for a little help. Carth grinned at her and shook his head. The bantha-turd was going to let her suffer. She really didn't want to get the old guy worked up, but she wanted him off her arm more. "What true path? Is there a road in the Under City?"

Shaking his head violently, Rukil exclaimed, "No, I cannot speak of it, yet. I must be wary, careful. You might be a false savior!" Releasing her arm, he looked away from her and began muttering aloud to himself, "Dare I share my secrets with her? I think, no. Not until she has proven herself."

Taking that as her cue, she tried to make a quiet getaway. "Look at the time, I've got to go. Good luck with that thing, Pops."

She was almost out of hearing when he exclaimed abruptly, "I sent her into the Under City."

Rhyska turned back to him, frowning in confusion. "Who?"

"My apprentice, Malya. I sent her in search of—a piece of Tarisan myth. Please, up-worlder, will you help an old man? Will you seek out my apprentice the Under City? Whatever her fate, I must know what befell her."

Rhyska looked at uncertainly at Carth, who mouthed to her, _Corellian whiskey_, and gestured slinging back a drink. He looked thoroughly amused. Rhyska narrowed her eyes at him. The man was no help at all. Eyeing Rukil shrewdly, she asked, "What will I get for helping you?"

Rukil's eyes flickered with hope as he eagerly promised, "I will reveal all my secret knowledge to you!"

"Oh," Rhyska said weakly. "Well, that's grand." Rhyska didn't need to look at Carth to know that he was laughing at her, but at least he wasn't laughing out loud. The old geezer was crazy, but relatively harmless. She supposed if she happened to run across his apprentice then it really wouldn't be out of her way. Rhyska sighed heavily. "Tell you what, just this once, if I find anything at all of your Malta…"

"Malya," Rukil corrected.

"Whatever!" Rhyska muttered snappishly. "If I find anything of your apprentice, I'll let you know."

Rukil flashed her a partially toothless smile and cried happily, "Thank you, up-worlder!"

"Sure, pops. Now if you'll excuse us, we really need a word with your leader." With a nod, she quickly backed away from him and waved goodbye. Rukil waved vigorously back at her and then proceeded to accost yet another passerby.

Carth grinned evilly at her. "Are you sure you didn't want to spend a little more time with the old geezer? He seemed taken with you."

"Actually, he said you were more his type. Apparently he's turned on by your scruffy charm," Rhyska replied mockingly. "What is it with you and old guys, Carth?"

"You're just pissed 'cause you're losing our bet," Carth shot back. "And I until I met you, old guys had zero interest in me. So I blame you!"

"Whatever! Anyway, all he wants is for us to keep an eye out for a lost girl. If we run across her while we're out there it won't be a big thing."

"You know, I'm beginning to think you're an in-the-closet do-gooder," Carth teased.

Rhyska looked at him as though he were a few cards short of a full deck. "What?! Is this depressing environment causing you to hallucinate weird scenarios in which I am some happy-go-lucky savior? Saviors go out of their way to do—whatever it is that they do. I thought you knew me well enough to know that I do not go out of my way for anything or anybody. I'm just not that ambitious."

"I don't know. You seem pretty focused on getting off of Taris."

"You aren't?"

"It's all I think about."

Rhyska chuckled. "No, really? I won't bother thanking you for the not-so-subtle reminder. How about we talk to the head guy, all ready?"

"Lead on."

As they approached Gendar's tent the group of outcasts dispersed leaving them alone with their leader. "Greetings. I am Gendar, the leader of this village. It's rare for us to receive so many visitors in such a short span. May I ask what brings you to the Under City?"

"I'm Carth Onasi and this is Rhyska Nevar. We're looking for a friend."

"You've a friend? Roaming around in the Under City?" Gendar looked at the two of them dubiously.

"A young Twi'lek girl and a big Wookiee. Gadon Thek told us they like to run around down here. Her name is Mission and the Wookiee goes by the name of Zaalbar."

"Oh, yes," Gendar confessed. "I do not know them personally, but she and her Wookiee companion often pass through our village on their way to explore the sewers."

"The sewers, huh?" Rhyska muttered distastefully. "How do we get there?"

"There are two entrances," Gendar began, "one is in the northeast, the other to the southeast. I advise you to go heavily armed or not at all. Rakghouls are not the only creatures that dwell in the sewer. A number of foul things make their homes there."

"Of course they do," Rhyska grumbled as she double-checked the number of grenades in her pouch.

Carth held out his hand and Gendar clasped it. "Thanks for the heads-up."

Gendar smiled grimly. "Good luck to you. Where you're headed, you'll need it."

---------------

They walked to the end of the village where high walls came together at the entrance to the Under City. Carth's brow furrowed and his hands came to rest on his blasters as he caught sight of something that put him on guard. "Something's going down at the gate."

The source of the caterwauling was a woman who was attempting to single-handedly knock the doors of the gate down. She banged her fists against the gate and seemed to be shouting derogatory remarks at a nearby guard.

"I'm sorry, Hester. I can't do that. I told that fool husband of yours not to leave the village, but he went anyway," the guard cursed as he yanked her away from the gate.

The woman jerked away from the guard and slapped him in the face, crying defiantly, "He'll make it! If you just open the gates he'll make it!" Rushing back to the gate, she searched through the slats of the fence until she spied the figure of a man who was quickly making his way back to the village. "See! There he is! Run, Hendar! Run!"

A bearded, dark haired man staggered up to the gates and pleaded between labored breaths, "Open the gate! Quickly, there isn't much time!"

"You've led a beast back to village, Hendar. I cannot risk opening the gate now."

"Open the gate!" Hester demanded.

The guard's only reply to the woman was a stony glare.

Hester cried angrily, "If you don't open the gate, the Rakghouls will kill him!"

The guard pointed to the gate and hissed, "If I open the gate they will kill us all! Better that they take only one."

Hester's eyes welled up with tears of frustration. "You can't do this! He's right there!"

A small crowd that gathered to see what the ruckus was all about made themselves scarce at the mention of a Rakghoul coming so close to the village. Only Carth and Rhyska remained silent as they watched the woman beg the guard to open the gate.

The man called Hendar was on the other side trying to claw his way in. He was crying, though it looked like he didn't know it. Above the sounds of arguing, a feral cry rang out in the distance, startling everyone into silence. He whipped his head in the direction of the sound and brandished his staff.

Hester went pale, her eyes wide and terrified. "Rakghoul!" She spun about and settled her sights on the two of them and implored, "Up-worlders, please. Don't let him die out there like that."

Rhyska took in the brown curly hair in disarray and the messy green colored tunic she wore. No armor and no weapons save what they constructed from the rubble of the Under City. These people just weren't equipped to deal with Rakghouls or anything else for that matter. Rhyska glanced at Carth who remained silent but for the look on his face which translated into _"Your call." _She flashed him an irritated look._ "How come it's always my decision?"_

The guard looked from Hester to Rhyska and Carth and spat incredulously, "You really think those up-worlders are going to help you, Hester? No one in this village is stupid enough to go up against a Rakghoul and no one from the surface is going to care if another one of us drops dead!"

Rolling her eyes, Rhyska hollered, "For crying out loud! Open the blasted gates! If you weren't so busy being irritating you could have let the idiot in all ready and re-secured the gate."

Carth slung his blasters out of his holsters and whisper with a sly grin, "Well, well. Look's like someone's a soft touch!"

"Oh, stow it! It's not like we weren't on our way out anyhow," Rhyska shot back irritably. As she drew her vibroblade, she bellowed once more, "Hey! I said open up!"

The guard looked as if he'd swallowed a bug. "You'd risk your lives for an outcast?!"

"Yeah, so open the gate before the guy gets eaten already."

The guard stared dumbfounded at the two of them for a moment before signaling the other gate guards. "We're locking the gates right behind you. I meant what I said. I cannot let a Rakghoul pass through these gates."

"Sure, buddy," Carth replied archly. "That part we got just fine."

"Just open the gates!" Rhyska gave the gate a swift kick to make her point.

On the other side of the gate, Hendar started screaming, signaling his impending doom as a silvery beast bounded over to him, swinging its talons. Hendar tried to beat it back with his staff, but was knocked on to the ground. The Rakghoul pinned him and sank his claws into Hendar's shoulders. Hendar screamed in pain and fear, "Get it off me! Get it off!"

The gate swung open and Hester screamed for Hendar. Rhyska and Carth raced out of the village towards the Rakghoul. Carth opened fire on the beast and Rhyska came up along side it and slashed at its flank. The Rakghoul roared. Black scorch marks trailed up and down its torso as Carth continued to blast it, a purple liquid oozing out of the wound Rhyska had created.

Rhyska heard the gate swing closed as the guard locked the outcast village down. Behind her Carth shouted, "Get him clear!"

The Rakghoul ignored the two of them and continued to snap at Hendar who had shoved his staff into the Rakghoul's mouth to keep the beast from biting him. Rhyska cut into the Rakghoul's leg, aiming for the flesh behind what used to be its knees and hit a nerve. The Rakghoul howled in pain as Rhyska severed muscle and tendons.

Forgetting Hendar, the beast lunged at her. Rhyska backed away. The Rakghoul slashed at her arm, forcing her to drop her vibroblade.

Crying out in pain, she backpedaled further away ducking from the Rakghoul's blows.

The gash she had dealt the Rakghoul had crippled its leg, slowing it down; giving Hendar a chance to scramble for the gate while Carth continued to blast away. Rhyska grimaced as its claws grazed her shoulder, forcing her to jump back.

The Rakghoul moved towards her, attempting to pounce. Rhyska grabbed a hold of both of its arms and fell backwards, taking the Rakghoul with her.

In the few seconds it took for her back to touch the ground, she used the beast's forward momentum to plant her feet firmly on its belly and rocked it's lower body upwards. She propelled the Rakghoul up and over, flinging it away from her. Not bothering to get up, Rhyska grabbed her blaster and twisted into a kneeling position, blasting the dazed monster.

Dashing up to where she knelt on the ground, Carth fired a pulse shot directly at the Rakghoul's head. With a final keening moan the beast shuddered and fell over dead.

Rhyska breathed heavily as she stared at the mutant corpse. Carth walked slowly over to it and kicked it with his foot.

"Is it dead?" Rhyska panted.

"I don't know." Carth poked and prodded at it. "It's not breathing—I think."

Getting up Rhyska picked up her vibroblade and walked over to where he stood. She studied the hulking pearlescent beast whose skin was riddled with cauterized char marks from blaster fire. She ran a finger over the pearlescent skin and found it to be slimy and moist. It smelled rank, causing Rhyska to wonder if this particular Rakghoul had just come from the sewers. Her eyes traveled to it's three pronged claws and feet, the strange hunch on it's back, and it's odd collection of wiry black spikes of hair that seemed out of place amidst the pearly bald skin of it's head.

"How's your arm? You sure you want to be touching that thing?" Carth kept his blasters trained on the brute as he watched her crouch over it.

"The arm's fine. Nothing a little trip to the healers and a medpack won't fix and no I don't want to touch it, but I need to know more about this thing." Rhyska slid her hand to its incisor filled maw and stared at the unblinking pair of black eyes and the third wide, milky eye in the center of it's forehead. As she turned its head to the side to inspect the damage that Carth's pulse blast did to the Rakghoul, it's jaw loosened and Rhyska could see tell tale sacks on the roof of the creature's mouth. "Venom sacs."

"Venom?" Carth leaned in for a closer look and wrinkled his nose at the smell.

"They said a bite from this thing mutates people, right?" Gingerly, she shifted the Rakghoul's head for a better view into its mouth.

"According to the doc," Carth added, looking a little green. "That is completely disgusting!"

She ignored his last comment and pointed to the sacs. "Well, that's probably the juice that does it." Closing its mouth, she studied its face and wondered aloud, "It's got three eyes, but I don't know what the third's for. Maybe heat-seeking?"

"How do you figure that?"

"You see any lights anywhere besides the village? Plus, it's freezing down here. There's no light, no warmth. Things that hunt in the night either can see in the dark or read heat signatures. Both are a problem for us. I don't know about you, but I can't see in the dark. These mutants are fast and strong. Not very smart, but they don't have to be if there's enough of them."

"What are you saying?"

Looking at Carth, she stood and wiped her slimy hands on the legs of her body suit with a grimace. "I'm saying that this is not going to be a walk in the park. We need to take them out before they reach us."

Carth grinned. "Blasters it is."

"Blasters and grenades," Rhyska corrected him happily.

"You'd add grenades to everything if you could," Carth muttered as he began inspecting the wounds on her arm. "Come on. Let's get back into the village. We need to get you patched up. I can't believe you tussled with that thing."

"Not like I had much choice!"

They turned to find the village gates open and Hendar leaning on Hester for support.

Though he was pale underneath his olive complexion, Hendar looked relieved to be alive. "You saved my life. Thank you."

Hester pulled him closer to her. "Come on, you big lug. Let's go home."

Before turning to leave, Hester smiled at Rhyska and Carth. "Thank you."

"Sure thing." Carth nodded to the couple. Turning to Rhyska, he said, "Let's head for the healer's station. You need to get those cuts looked at."

Rhyska was about to follow Carth when she heard movement. Carth went still beside her, hearing the noise as well.

"You hear that?" Carth asked, slinging his blasters out once more. He scanned the desolate expanse of the Under City for movement, but saw nothing.

Rhyska pulled out her own blaster and closed her eyes, listening for the noise she heard earlier.

"Must be our imaginations working overtime." Carth lowered his blasters.

Rhyska's brow furrowed as something rustled just ahead to the left of them.

Carth raised his blasters and hissed, "Wishful thinking on my part. Something's out there, Nevar!"

"Hush," Rhyska whispered as she opened her eyes. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness beyond the area the outcast village lit up and still she saw nothing. Another sound reached her ears. Frowning, she asked, "Do you hear crying?"

Carth shook his head. "I heard movement."

Rhyska couldn't see anything moving in the dark and suddenly an idea hit her. She looked at the ground for any signs of disturbance. She moved forward slowly as she scanned the barren earth of the Under City.

"Are you crazy?!" Carth hissed as he inched behind her, blasters at the ready. "Where the hell are you going?"

Rhyska didn't bother to answer as the sound and the crying became more obvious. The sounds of a feet making contact with the ground filled her head. Pointing her blaster upwards and away from the sound, she found what she was looking for. An invisible presence stepped forward and left an imprint of small feet in the loose soil. Behind the imprint was a trail of foot prints running from something, or maybe towards her. Rhyska was unsure until she heard a sharp intake of breath and a sob as the invisible presence lunged forward.

"Look out!" Carth cried as he trained his blasters on the sound rushing towards them.

Running forward in the path of Carth's blasters, Rhyska opened up her arms as a person shimmered into view, the concealing stealth field deactivating. A familiar blue Twi'lek ran into Rhyska's open arms. "Don't blast me!"

"Mission?" Carth exclaimed in disbelief as he trained his blasters skyward. Mission clung to Rhyska who wrapped her arms around the sobbing teen and murmured softly to her, "It's okay, Mission. Everything's gonna be okay."

Looking at a very surprised Carth, Rhyska shrugged. "Well, at least she saved us the trouble of looking for her."

**

* * *

Author Note:** As always, many thanks to BrynNevan and Lady Vaguely. To all the lovely people that enjoy the story so far, feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	14. Mission Impossible

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**Mission Impossible  
**

* * *

A short while later, the three of them were in the outcast healer's station treating their wounds. Other than a few scrapes and bruises, Mission was relatively unharmed. Emotionally, she was a wreck. While the healer tended Hendar's wounds, Carth sat on some nearby crates and cleaned up the few cuts Mission had. 

While he tried to calm the little Twi'lek down, Rhyska began treating her own injuries. After a shot of kolto, the pain in her arm and shoulder receded into a dull ache. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything that she could do to repair the damage done to the Echani armor.

"Blast it!" She cursed a couple more times as she tried to patch up the body suit with some sealant she had gotten from Igear. It was messy, but if it could at least last through next day or so then it would have served its purpose. _"Of course,"_ she thought grimly to herself. _"That's assuming we can avoid any Rakghoul attacks…Right."_ She had just smoothed over the last sealant patch when Mission started pleading again.

"He's still down there! Please, you gotta help. I can't just leave him. Even if I went to the Beks, it'd be too late. You'll do it, right? You'll help me rescue Big Z, right?"

Rhyska walked over to the two of them and found that Mission had Carth pinned down with a tear-filled gaze. His eyes were wide with panic. His mouth opened and closed without uttering a single word. He waved his hands around as fat drops of tears ran down her face, before finally stuttering, "Oh, hey now…Do-don't cry. Please! Please, don't cry!"

His expression was so comical Rhyska had to turn and hide her snicker before taking a seat on a crate next to Mission. She pushed her amusement aside and tried to get a hold of herself before placing a comforting arm around Mission. "It's okay. We'll do what we can to help you, but first we need you to take a deep breath and calmly tell us what happened."

Mission's big brown eyes were red from crying and her face was a splotchy blue-violet. With a few deep breaths, she calmed herself down enough to explain what happened. "Me…me and Zaalbar were just messing around in the sewers. You know, just keeping an eye out for good salvage and mapping out the sewer tunnels we hadn't explored."

Rhyska and Carth shared a look of incredulity at Mission's choice of playgrounds.

Carth shook his head in disbelief. "I have to admit, if I were a Rakghoul, I'd have thought twice before pestering a Wookiee."

Mission shot him a half-smile. "Normally, Rakghouls steer clear of Big Z, but it wasn't the Rakghouls that got him. It was Gamorrean slave hunters. We ran from them, but they pinned us down in one of the sewer corridors. Big Z threw himself at them and roared for me to run. So I did. I ran. I thought he was right behind me, but when I looked back, they were gone. I wanted to go back after him, but I barely dodged the Rakghouls I came across getting out. I—I just left him there. They got him and it's all my fault!"

Giving Mission a sympathetic squeeze, she assured the girl, "It's not your fault. It's not like you guys knew the Gamorreans were going to be there."

Mission looked at the two of them with watery eyes and bit her lip before admitting, "They live there."

Carth's jaw dropped as he thought of something to say that wouldn't upset the poor kid further. His first response was to ask, _"What kind of idiot would mess around in a Rakghoul and Gamorrean-infested area, much less a sewer?"_ Wisely, he didn't. Instead, he looked at Rhyska and replied tonelessly, "I honestly don't know how to respond to that."

Rhyska blinked and chose her next words carefully. "Well, it's not like you meant for it to happen. I'm sure Zaalbar wouldn't have wanted you to get caught. He did what he could to protect you. Wookiees are very loyal, but then I'm sure you know that."

The tears in Mission's eyes continued to spill over and her face twisted in guilt as she wailed, "They're gonna sell him to slavers, I just know it!"

"So you think he's still in the sewers?" Carth asked, quickly trying to get Mission talking. In his experience, once girls started crying it took forever for them to stop and they couldn't afford any more delays.

"_Typical guy—a couple of tears and it's over."_ Rhyska mused as she watched Carth interact with Mission. She shook her head and tried to get through to the kid. "I know the situation looks bad and granted, it sort of is…but we aren't going to be of any help to your friend Zaalbar if all we do is sit here and watch you cry. If you want to help your friend, the first step is to stop crying. You're scaring Carth."

Despite it all, Mission laughed at the look of panic on Carth's face and nodded in agreement. "The Gammoreans never leave the sewers. They do most of their trading with the Vulkars. They'll sell Big Z to the Vulkars." Mission sniffled as she wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

Carth brow furrowed as he looked at Mission. "How do you know that?"

"I saw the Vulkars poking around in the sewers awhile back. Big Z waited for me while I followed them. They have an elevator that goes from the Under City right into their base."

Carth's eyes glimmered with renewed life and he grinned. "Perfect! Listen, if you help us get into that base, we'll help you rescue Zaalbar."

"You bet!" Mission exclaimed ecstatically. "As soon as we get Big Z back, I'll take you straight there." Standing up suddenly, she waved for them to follow. "Let's go! We have to find Zaalbar before they sell him off to the Vulkars or worse..."

Carth stood up quickly and set a hand on her shoulder. "Whoa! Hold on a second, Mission. Before we go running off into the sewers to look for your friend, there are few things we need to do first."

Mission's cheeks flushed an angry purple and she clenched her fists at her sides. "Like what? You just promised you'd help me rescue Big Z!"

"And we will," Rhyska replied calmly. "But first, we need to upgrade your armor. No offense, but I tried the whole vibroblade versus the  
Rakghoul thing and that wasn't very effective. I've got some stuff that should do you."

"What's wrong with my gear?" Mission spared a quick look at Rhyska and Carth's gear before glancing down at her own armor. "It was good enough for Big Z!"

"Yeah, but Carth isn't a Wookiee," Rhyska pointed out.

"Hey, I'm flattered that you think I can go swatting Rakghouls about like a pissed-off Wookiee, but I can't," Carth replied humorously. "I'm good, but I can't do that. What I can do is shoot, so that's what I'm gonna stick with."

Rhyska set her rucksack on the ground and started rummaging through its contents. "I picked up some really good armor that will do the job and we've got a small selection of weapons that should work for you."

"Oh," Mission whispered in mild astonishment. "You're just gonna give me stuff…for nothing."

"Not for nothing," Rhyska assured her. "We're doing it so you can hold your own out in mutant monster land."

Mission still seemed taken aback, but she nodded in understanding. "Yeah, of course. It's just that we'd be even, see? You help me rescue Big Z and I'd help you get into the Vulkar base. Clean slate. But you givin' me armor and stuff… Well, it seems like I'm cheatin' you."

"Once the first Rakghoul comes at you, I promise you won't be thinking that."

Mission nodded, a look of determination settling on her face. "All right. Whadaya got?"

Rhyska dug out the modified Republic armor out of her rucksack and handed over the body suit and vest to Mission who disappeared into the healer's tent to change.

Carth looked relieved and Rhyska chuckled at him. "What's up?"

"You handled that pretty well." Carth nodded towards the tent Mission was in. "I was next to useless whenever my wife cried and I sure as hell couldn't get my son at that age to do anything I told him to do."

Rhyska quirked a brow at this new information. _"Carth was married and had kids?! Well, not surprising there. Hero of the fleet was bound to be shacked up with some gorgeous creature and have a kid who was his spitting image stashed somewhere."_ Rhyska wondered if they were on Telos when Malak razed his world. If they were, she wasn't about to piss him off by bringing up bad memories. They had too much to do and a short amount of time to do it in. She preferred to accomplish this task without him getting all moody and irritable every five minutes.

She decided to keep their conversation focused on Mission. "Don't let her looks fool you, Carth. She's older than she looks, even if it's only mentally. Kids that play this long in Rakghoul territory know the terrain. She seems pretty good at stealth and evasion. Anyway, she's a Twi'lek. They have great reflexes, they're fast, and they have way better night vision they we do. She's exactly what we need down here."

Carth sighed tiredly and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I know, I know. It's just--I look at her and I see somebody's kid."

"She is someone's kid, but she hasn't been one in probably more than half her life. The Wookiee helped her out by being her strong arm, but make no mistake… she's the brains of that operation."

The outcast healer took that moment to interrupt their conversation by inquiring about their needs. She was coppery skinned with dark eyes and short graying hair. There was a kind, but tired, look in her eyes as she asked them, "Are you all well? Does anyone need healing?"

"No, ma'am," Carth said respectfully. "We only suffered a couple minor injuries. Nothing a shot of kolto couldn't take care of."

"Should you need anything," the healer began, "don't hesitate to ask. Helping Hendar the way you did was the most selfless thing we've seen in a great long while. I will attend you free of charge."

"I am all about the free of charge," Rhyska said with a grin. Eyeing the strange looking pen near the healer's station and tent, she pointed it out. "What's over there in that pen?"

"Nothing that concerns you," the healer replied nervously.

Frowning at such an odd answer, Rhyska walked over to the pen and looked inside, finding several humans huddled in the pens dark corners.

"Wait, up-worlder," The healer exclaimed as she grabbed a hold of Rhyska's arm. "You mustn't get too close."

Coming up along side them, Carth peeked into the pen and asked confusedly, "Why? Is that the Under City lock-up?"

The healer looked into the inquisitive faces of Rhyska and Carth and folded. "No, we have no need of a detention center. This is where we keep villagers infected with the Rakghoul disease. This is our quarantine area."

Rhyska quirked a brow and pointed to the pen. "Then everybody in here…"

The healer nodded. "It's only a matter of time before they transform into mindless and ravenous beasts that roam free in the Under City."

Carth shook his head, appalled. "So you just lock them away in a cage?"

"We have no choice. We cannot let the infected roam free amongst us. We keep them here so that when they finally do transform, the rest of the villagers are safe."

Rhyska gazed inside the pen. Several faces turned to her. They looked like death. Their skin pale and clammy from a cold that had nothing to do with Under City weather and their eyes were bleak and hopeless. Not a single soul in the pen expected to live.

Behind her, she heard Carth snark at the healer. "Is that excuse supposed to make it easier? If they tear themselves to pieces it's really the Rakghoul's fault? Never mind that you put them in an easy position to die."

"There is nothing else we can do!" the healer snapped. "Do you see an overwhelming amount of medical equipment here? We are lucky to have this much! The Upper citizens would rather see us all dead than lift a finger to eradicate this mutation. What works were placed into creating a cure was put forth by Republic scientists who were studying the Rakghouls. It's where most of my medicines and equipment came from."

Looking at the quarantined villagers in the pen she said quietly, "They were so close and then the Sith arrived. They use the serum meant for us. These people might have been cured, if not for them."

"There must be something someone can do," Carth insisted.

The healer shook her head. "Nothing can be done for the infected villagers. Even the serum to counteract the Rakghoul disease wouldn't be of any use now. They are so close to the change, no one would risk their lives for fear of infection."

Carth hissed angrily, "So you'll just leave the infected ones to die? That's crazy!"

"That is our way," the healer replied coldly. "There is nothing to be done for these poor souls. We have no serum and so we can do nothing for them. Now if you'll excuse me…"

The healer left without another word, leaving Carth to fume at their lack of empathy and compassion. "That is the most insane thing I have ever heard of!"

Mission watched their heated exchange with the outcast healer in silence before approaching Rhyska and Carth in her new armor. The black body suit was snug and wasn't as light as she would have preferred, but the tan colored vest and armor plates on the back were quite handy with their extra protection and multiple pockets. She had just finished jamming on her boots and was strapping on her utility belt and holster when she exited the tent to find everyone arguing. Hooking her vibroblade to her belt, she said to Carth, "They really don't have many options down here, ya know?"

Carth looked at her somewhat startled before asking, "How long has this been going on?"

"Longer than I've been alive," Mission stated. "Probably as long as old Rukil's been around, maybe even longer. Gadon says they never bothered finding a cure for the Rakghoul mutation because the nobles use it as a form of Under City population control and who's gonna argue against that?"

Carth considered her words carefully, but was slightly disturbed at how matter-of-fact she was about the situation. This was not a conversation he expected to be having with a fourteen-year-old.

"They got the poodoo end of the stick, Carth," Mission continued. "They're only doing what they know based on the few options they've got. Can't really be pissed at them for that. 'Course, I doubt they'd say no to some serum if we came across any."

"Yeah, about that," Rhyska began. "We need to have a quick look around the Under City. Can you get us to those escape pods that crashed down here before we go off into the sewers?"

Mission blinked. "But the Gamorreans could sell Zaalbar any minute!"

"I doubt it," Rhyska said with a shake of her head. "Where are they gonna take him? They can't get him off-world, no one's going to employ a Wookiee in the Upper City, even as a slave. If I understand it right, not many in the Lower City can afford a Wookiee, much less keep him under control. Big Z isn't going anywhere for the next couple of hours and I promise you we'll find him before the night is over. First things first, check out those pods and then we need to find us some Rakghoul serum. Then we'll go into the sewers."

Mission frowned at Rhyska uncertainly. "I suppose."

"Unless, you want to become the first blue Rakghoul…" Rhyska trailed off dramatically.

"NO!" Mission exclaimed shaking her head emphatically. "I mean, yeah. We can look for some serum. That's a good idea."

Carth grinned at Rhyska's strategy and turned to Mission. "Do you know where he's being kept in the sewers?"

Mission shook her head. "I know that the Gamorreans make their camps in the sewers. I just don't know exactly where, but it's probably near the corridors me and Big Z usually steer clear of. On the up side, the Vulkar's backdoor isn't far, so I can get you where you need to go straight away!"

"Great!" Carth exclaimed as he handed her a blaster.

Mission looked down at the blaster and they eyed the blaster rifle strapped to his back. "What's this?"

"Um, it's a blaster." Carth looked from Mission to the blaster, not quite understanding what the problem was.

"I'm a girl so you stiff me with a girly blaster? Come on! I'm not some moon-brained stoopa Vulkar! Don't stick the sissy weapons on me. Gimme the rifle!" Mission held the grip of the blaster back out to Carth.

Carth looked at Mission in disbelief and then looked at Rhyska who said with quiet amusement, "You heard her, Flyboy. Give her the rifle."

---------------

The trio hadn't gotten much farther outside of the Outcast village when Rhyska put Mission on point.

"You want me to lead?" Mission asked.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Carth began hesitantly.

Rhyska waved him off. "How's your night vision?"

"I'm a Twi'lek," Mission stated, as though that were explanation enough.

"Then that makes you our eyes, plus you know where we need to go, right?"

Mission nodded. "Escape pods. You sure you want me to take you there? Earlier, me and Big Z spotted some Sith patrols scouting the area around the crash site."

"It's cool, we've got papers," Rhyska replied smoothly.

"I'd rather avoid them," Carth muttered.

"And I'd rather run into them than the Rakghouls," Rhyska retorted sweetly. "Just relax, Carth. We knew this wasn't going to be a smooth ride, but we can at least try to stick to the bumps we know."

"I guess," Carth murmured uncertainly. He watched as Mission vanished ahead of them into the dark. Then he ordered in good humor, "Lead on, Blue Girl."

From somewhere ahead of them, a disembodied voice spat out indignantly, "What did you just call me?!"

---------------

The dark of the Under City prevented Rhyska and Carth from seeing more than twelve feet in front of them without the portable light sources they acquired from Igear's shop, Mission scouted ahead of them using her stealth from time to time. For awhile they moved through Taris's forgotten world unhindered, until Mission shimmered back into view in front of them.

Anxiously she informed them, "There's a Sith patrol just up ahead. It looks like they've seen some action."

"Good," Rhyska said. "Hang back with Carth and I'll handle the talking."

"You sure about this?" Carth asked.

Rhyska grinned wryly. "Would you rather do the talking?"

Carth shook his head. "No, thanks. You're definitely better at smoothin' the road down with Ronto crap. They aren't going to buy anything I've got to say."

"Well, then it's settled," Rhyska said. "Leave the slick words to me."

Mission grinned cheekily. "Now this I've got to see…"

A few minutes later they rounded the bend and saw beams of light illuminating a Sith Patrol. A high ranking trooper in red armor hollered, "You there, civilian! This is a restricted area!"

Rhyska stepped forward ahead of Carth and Mission and the trooper shined his portable light source right in her face, making her squint.

"What are you doing down here?" he demanded.

"I'll be happy to answer that as soon as you stop blinding me!" Rhyska replied. When he didn't move the light, she unzipped her body armor partially to pull out the security papers she had procured from the Beks. The light dropped down from her face and settled over her partially unzipped suit. _"It's not even down far enough to get a good look,"_ she thought to herself. _"Typical guy."_

She held out the papers to him. "I have the proper security papers right here."

Walking forward cautiously, the trooper took the papers from her hand and flashed his light on them. "Security papers, huh? You must be one of those trackers the commander sent down, right?"

"That would be us," Rhyska said with a nod as the trooper flashed the light on Carth and Mission for a quick look.

"It's just the three of you then? And they didn't give you an armed escort?" The trooper asked in a voice that sounded like he was frowning as he handed her back the papers.

"They didn't seem too concerned," Rhyska said nonchalantly as she tucked the papers back into her body suit and zipped up.

"I don't suppose they would be. They might think differently if it were their asses searching through this miserable hole. It's nasty down here. We've already lost one patrol. Rakghouls probably got them," he informed her tiredly. "We've run into those freaks so often, we've just about run out of serum."

Rhyska arched a brow at the little bit of information and mused_, "If their patrol got hit by Rakghouls, maybe they still have the serum on them. Pearly beasts are probably still in the area though. A risk we'll have to take then."_

"Where'd you lose contact with this patrol?" Rhyska asked.

"Is that why you're down here?" the trooper asked, sounding surprised. "Search and rescue? I didn't think they'd bother."

"Well," Rhyska said with a chuckle. "They did and here we are in mutant monster land. So, about that lost patrol…"

"They were in the southern section of the Under City when we lost contact," the trooper replied. "Good luck to you. If they were hit by Rakghouls, then you'll be the first to know."

"Thanks, we'll check it out," Rhyska said with a nod.

The trooper returned her nod and hollered to his team, "Come on, patrol! Let's get this search moving! The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get out of this mutant-infested hole!"

---------------

The trio didn't bother waiting for the troopers to disappear off into the darkness. They made their way to the south with Mission in the lead. Their trek was filled with strange noises and darting shadows as small creatures followed their light through the Under City.

"Mission," Rhyska beckoned quietly as she nodded to a small shadow that darted in and out of the nearby rubble, following them. "What in space is that?"

Mission stopped to take a closer look at the curious creature with the glowing green eyes. "Oh, that's just a simian," Mission replied with a wave of her hand. "They're scavengers. No worries though. I only see the one. Don't really have a problem with one, but when there's a whole pack of 'em, the little critters get aggressive. They don't bother with scavenging then. Come on, we're almost there."

"You know a lot about the Under City, don't you?" Rhyska asked.

Mission flashed her a cocky grin. "As a matter of fact, no one knows the Under City the way me and Zaalbar do. We've been over every square foot on the Lower City, so we decided to feel out the Under City. Besides, nobody bothers us down here."

"That's amazing."

"Why? 'Cause I'm a kid?" Mission retorted suspiciously.

Rhyska quirked a brow at the mercurial teen. "No. Despite the fact that it's completely crazy, it takes a lot of guts to come down here and do what you do."

Mission looked away from Rhyska and Carth, trying to hide her embarrassment. "Well, it's not that hard. You just gotta know what to watch for. If you can avoid the Rakghouls, large packs of simians, the man-sized sewer rodents, that weird looking slug-thing that lives in the sewers, and the Gamorreans, then everything's just a cake walk."

"Man-sized rodents?" Carth exclaimed. "What do you mean slug-things? I thought there were just the Rakghouls down here."

Mission shook here head. "This place has its own ecosystem. Whatever couldn't adapt to the Under City's permanent night after they built the scrapers on top of it died. What survived…well there isn't much vegetation down here, so pretty much everything that moves eats meat."

"Nice," Carth muttered. "This just keeps getting better and better."

"Stay positive, Carth!" Rhyska teased, "If we can get our hands on that Rakghoul serum it won't matter if one of those monstrosities attaches itself to your leg. I'm sure you'll be relieved to know that even if it uses you as a chew toy, you won't turn into one of them!"

Carth flashed the light on Rhyska's face and said flatly, "Don't comfort me."

Mission chuckled and shook her head. "You guys are weird!"

"Weird is good," Rhyska began. "How about you, Mission? Tell us something about yourself."

"Really? You wanna know about me?" Snorting softly, Mission blinked her eyes in surprised. "That's a first. Big Z's the only one to ever take an interest, but he is my best friend."

"Seriously," Carth pressed. "How did you and Zaalbar end up watching each other's backs?"

Mission shrugged. "I sort of adopted him, you know? 'Cause he's a Wookie, people tend to avoid him 'cause they're afraid he'll rip their arms off. Between you and me, if you stand between him and a meal he just might, but deep down he's a softy. I first saw him wandering around the Lower City, totally lost... I was curious. He's the first Wookie I'd ever seen. So, of course I followed him. Good thing too, 'cause not too long after, he ran into some Black Vulkars."

Carth shook his head in disbelief. "Who would pick a fight with a Wookie?"

Mission snorted with derision. "Nobody said the Vulkars were smart. Still, they must have figured that three against one could beat a Wookie. Anyway, when I saw them messing with Big Z, just harassing him--I just sort of snapped. I screamed at those core slimes to leave him alone. Then I charged em'," Mission chuckled at the memory. "I almost had them too, but one of them spotted me coming and just about slapped me silly. I swear I thought I saw stars!"

"You're lucky he didn't fry you with a blaster!" Carth exclaimed.

"What?! Now see here, pal. I don't need a lecture from you!" Mission snapped. "You ain't my father! I know how to take care of myself."

"Of course you do," Rhyska said smoothly. "Carth just meant that it must be recently that the Vulkars have taken to shooting everything that moves."

"Oh, is that what you meant?" Mission asked, somewhat embarrassed. Looking at Rhyska's blank face she replied, "Well, yeah. Used to be they'd just mess with people and stun 'em, now they blast people on sight."

With a sigh, Mission continued, "Anyway, those Vulkars didn't scare me. There nothing but cowards. I knew how to deal with them. Not that I got the chance."

"What happened?"

"I guess Zaalbar didn't like seeing me get smacked around," Mission said with a grin. "He let out this howl and yanked that Vulkar a meter off the ground and held him there by his throat. It was awesome!"

"What about the other two?"

"They ran screaming down the hall, not that I blame them. I mean, who wants to get up close and personal with an angry Wookie? Big Z roared so loud, I seriously thought he was gonna rip the dude in half. The Vulkar was so scared he fainted, or maybe big Z's breath just knocked him out. It's hard to tell sometimes…"

Mission grinned at the two of them and advised, "So long as you stay upwind of him and you'll be just fine. Anyway, after that little confrontation, I grabbed Big Z and we took off. We've been best friends ever since."

"So, what's Zaalbar doing on Taris anyway?" Rhyska asked.

Mission shrugged. "Don't know if you noticed, but Big Z is sort of the strong and silent type. He doesn't talk about home, family, or anything having to do with his past. He only said that he could never go back. Sounds big I know, but I don't care what he did or what happened in his past. I accept Big Z for who he is, not who he was. The thing about me and Zaalbar is that we both live in the present. We don't dwell about the past and we don't worry about the future."

Carth listened to Mission with a blank face. Rhyska couldn't even fathom what he was thinking about. He remained vigilant and alert, but every so often, he would look at Mission as she talked about her life in Taris with a look of disbelief. Then he asked a question that made Rhyska wince.

"How did you survive before you met Zaalbar?"

"What kind of question is that?" Mission asked archly. "I've got street smarts. I know how to get by on my own. In fact, I look out for Big Z more than he looks out for me. He's a little too gullible to make it on his own on the mean streets of the Lower City. I gotta say, Carth. Your questions are starting to piss me off."

Carth raised his hands in surrender and mumbled, "Okay, touchy subject I get it. We'll just get back to finding the pods."

"Good idea. 'Fast talk and slick words don't get the job done!' Or at least, that's what I used to tell my brother."

That tidbit of information made Carth quirk his brows. "You have a brother?"

"That is a touchier subject than the one we were just on," Mission replied in a voice that left very little room for doubt about how she felt about that particular conversation.

"Movin' on," Carth agreed hastily.

Mission shook her head and walked on ahead of them.

After a few glances at a very perturbed Carth, Rhyska couldn't help herself. "Hey, Flyboy? I'll bet you another bottle of Corellian whiskey that you're gonna piss her off before the day is done."

Carth flashed her an irritable look and hissed, "I'm gonna have to pass on that bet, Knickers."

Rhyska made a few tsking sounds and chuckled. "Don't take out your irritation on me just because you were cursed with the oratorical skill and tact of a Gammorean!"

"You know what? I don't feel like playing this game with you right now, so just walk away."

Rhyska rolled her eyes at him and caught up with Mission.

Carth hoped they found the pod soon. It hadn't taken long for their conspiratorial laughter or the occasional glance back in his direction to irritate him. A feeling of dread came over him as he muttered, "Great, they're bonding."

* * *

**Author Note:** As always, many thanks to my awesome betas. To the readers, feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	15. Dead Man Walking

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**Dead Man Walking

* * *

**  
Despite the darkness on the Under City, it was relatively easy to spot the Rakghouls—or rather smell them. Luckily, they hadn't run into any big groups, just loner Rakghouls feeding on scraps. Rhyska decided that taking them out from a distance was much better than the one-on-one approach she had attempted earlier.

When the blaster fire had died down, they were standing over the remains of a few Rakghouls and the Sith patrol, or rather what was left of them. Rhyska's nostrils flared at the putrid smell of decomposed leftovers and charred flesh. The smell was awful and the sight of the Sith ambush even more so.

Thanks to the body armor, there were more solid pieces of the Sith left, just not much where their armor gave out. Rhyska wasn't sure if that was any better than the remains of simians and outcasts they had found along the way. As with the other remains, she knelt beside the Sith and shined a light down on them.

Carth made some rather disgruntled noises as she poked and prodded at their remains. Mission looked a little grossed out as she watched Rhyska frisk the corpses, but accepted the salvaged medpacks that were tossed her way. Neither one voiced any comments when she located the serum and inoculated them. Rhyska shuddered as she injected herself with the vaccine. She was glad for the lack of light, otherwise they might have seen how green she was. If she wasn't so damned hungry, she might have had to heave something up.

"Hey," Carth murmured in a low voice. "How about we rest up for a bit?"

Rhyska nodded. "Sounds good to me."

"Only, let's not rest here," he added hastily.

Mission chuckled as she began sifting through an older set of remains a short distance away from them. "What's the matter, Carth? Feelin' queasy?"

"I'm a battle-hardened soldier," Carth informed the Twi'lek. "I don't get queasy."

"Sure, Geezer. Whatever you say." Mission chuckled to herself. Her brow furrowed as she pulled a datapad from beneath the desiccated remains. Walking over to Rhyska, she tossed her the pad. "Hey, take a look at this."

Rhyska grinned as she quickly scanned through the contents of the datapad. Curiously, Mission stood next to her and shined a light down on the pad to better read over her shoulder. It looked like a load of gibberish.

"Nice going, Mission. You've just made Old Wrinkleskin's day."

Mission cocked a brow at her. "Seriously?"

"Yup." Rhyska nodded and slipped the datapad into her rucksack. "You just found Malya, or rather, what's left of her."

Mission fairly bounced with excitement, causing her head tails to slip off her shoulder and down her back. "Was there a reward?"

"There sure is," Carth drawled.

Rhyska traded an amused look with Carth before breaking the news to the excitable little Twi'lek. "Congratulations, you get Rukil and all the knowledge he possesses!"

"What?!" Mission exclaimed. "The old dude?! Ugh! No thanks!"

Shooting the both of them an irritable looked, she spat, "I'm gonna scout ahead."

Carth and Rhyska chuckled as she stalked off into the dark before vanishing into stealth mode.

"I guess that means you get to keep Rukil," Carth pointed out.

Rhyska clapped Carth on the back and grinned. "Carth? Do you recall what happened to you the last time I made nice with an old coot?"

Carth's face fell and even in the dark she could tell he'd gone red.

"You just had to bring that up, didn't you?" Carth sputtered and trailed off after Mission.

Rhyska followed close on his heels, chortling evilly. Messin' with Carth was just too good to resist!

---------------

It wasn't long before they found the pod. Carth was still being a stick in the mud and Mission was still irritated with the both of them.

Despite their moodiness, both were curious to search the escape pod. Carth nearly got himself blown to bits in his haste to get there. He was jerked backwards by Mission, who pointed out the land mine that blocked the strip of land around the only accessible point of the pod. Mission shook her head at him and made some tsking sounds before kneeling down to disable the mine.

Carth frowned as he considered the mine and the fact that it was set between the pod's door and the rest of the Rakghoul infested Under City. "Somebody had to have set that mine."

Mission rolled her eyes at him. "You think?"

"Well, I don't figure the Rakghouls had the patience or the fingers for demolitions," Rhyska retorted cheekily. "Think maybe whoever set it is still around?"

"Pod survivors, you mean?" Carth scanned the area and cursed the dark. His personal light device wasn't exactly made for illuminating large areas. "You'd think they'd want some help, or maybe they think we're Sith."

Rhyska snorted. "Carth, even with the lack of light, they'd be able to see that we aren't all Sithified with those dandy, claustrophobic little bronze numbers they're always parading about in. Not to mention we're working with a non-human. They'd have to be three kinds of stupid to mistake us for Sith." Suddenly, she smacked his arm lightly and nodded towards Mission.

Carth directed his light device towards where Mission was tinkering with the mine. He could hear the smile in her voice as she gushed excitedly. "It's like she's a blue Twi'lek version of me! What are the odds?"

"Freaky," Carth stated with a shudder. "One of you is barely more than I can handle. The thought of a teenaged version of you running around disabling mines and pillaging apartments kind of makes my blood run cold."

Rhyska cocked a brow and asked in a quietly indignant voice, "What exactly are you trying to say, Carth?"

Carth quickly turned of his light source and avoided eye contact with Rhyska. He breathed a sigh of relief when Mission announced, "All done!"

Suddenly, blaster fire erupted from the pod, sending everyone scrambling for cover.

With a yelp, Mission dove behind some rubble for cover before reactivating her stealth unit.

Rhyska and Carth hid behind a sizeable chunk of building debris, which the assailant decided was an excellent target. Blaster bolts concentrated on their position while Carth hollered, "Where's Mission?"

Rhyska unhooked her vibroblade and inched close to edge of the debris cover. "She went into stealth mode."

Carth edged closer to his end of the debris cover and tried to get a look around. "The blaster fire is pretty erratic. Did you see where it was coming from?"

"Gimme a sec and I'll let you know."

"Blast it!" Carth cursed as another bolt exploded just above his head, forcing him back. "Careful, Onasi. One shot to the head is all it would take to ruin a perfectly good time," he mumbled to himself.

"Is that what you call this? A good time?" Rhyska flashed him a dubious look and shook her head. "Flyboy, you need to get out more!"

She angled the flat of her vibroblade out from their ground cover and tried to use the reflection from its surface to determine the shooter's position.

Carth gave her a nod for ingenuity. "Not bad! Now if you had night vision you might actually be able to see who is shooting at us."

Rhyska frowned as she tried to angle for a better view. The light from the blaster bolts erupting from the pod illuminated the area just enough for her to make out a figure moving near the entrance of the pod, but only for the few moments that the light lasted. As dark as it was in the Under City, it was pitch black inside the escape pod.

"You said you wanted to know where the shooter is, not who the shooter is. The where is obvious. The shooter is in the pod, just hiding behind the frame of the door. Too dark to see the who of it. We'll just have to go introduce ourselves the old-fashioned way."

At that remark, Carth suddenly bellowed, "Mission, stay out of our line of fire!"

A disembodied "Duh!" was his only reply. Carth grimaced as he returned fire. "It's gotta be one of ours. They wouldn't stay in the pod otherwise."

"You're the commander. Tell your trigger-happy subordinate to stop shooting at us, Flyboy!"

"I'm really not in the mood to go shouting out my name and rank for any Sith patrols that happen to be roaming nearby. We're just going to have to subdue him ourselves."

"Subdue him, huh? So basically what you're telling me is that I can't shoot him."

Carth glared at her and spat, "No. No you can't. And just so that we're clear about this, the objective is to take him alive, soldier!"

Rhyska cocked a brow at him. She pulled out a gas grenade and mockingly saluted. "Aye, aye, Commander Tight-pants." She began to tinker with the grenade even as she hollered for Mission.

Mission shimmered back into view beside them, while Rhyska removed the green vial of toxin from the grenade and reset it. She tossed it into Mission's waiting hands. "Special delivery straight into the pod's cockpit."

Carth's eyes bugged out of his head as he hissed, "What part of _alive _did you not understand?"

"Jeez, Carth. Maybe you should chill or something before you have a coronary!" Mission admonished. "She took out the toxin. It's just a smoke grenade now."

Before Carth could say another word, Mission was gone. He fervently hoped that she avoided getting shot by any stray blaster bolts, otherwise his promise to the Bek's second-in-command wouldn't be worth a damn.

The sound of a small projectile dropping onto the durasteel floor of the pod rattled in the darkness, followed by the hissing sound of a grenade releasing its smoke. Shortly afterwards, the blaster fire ceased and the sound of a person trying to cough out their insides rang out in the darkness.

Shining their light on the pod entrance, they watched as a single individual crawled out of the pod and fell to the ground. It was a man and he was filthy, wild eyed, and muttering all kinds of drivel.

Rhyska scowled even as she readied a shot of the Rakghoul serum. He didn't just look and smell ill, he _felt_ ill too. As he caught sight of them coming towards him, he raised his blaster and then screamed. Mission shimmered into view along side his head. A sharp kick to his hand sent his blaster flying.

Mission quickly stepped back, training her rifle on the man. Carth ran over to them. "Don't kill him, Mission! "

"You might re-think your position when you get a better look at him," Mission replied, not easing her stance in the slightest. "He's infected and he's been this way awhile. I don't think that serum will do him any good."

"I'm not giving up on my men!" Carth growled. He knelt beside the soldier trying to hold him still, but the man fought him.

Wordlessly, Rhyska grabbed the soldiers arm and injected him with the serum. Almost immediately the soldier reacted to it. He began to scream in pain even as his body convulsed.

Mission cursed. "I'll take his legs, 'cause there's no way I'm touching his face!" With that statement, she ran around Carth and scrambled onto the soldier's legs to keep him from kicking out.

That left Rhyska to hold the soldier down by his shoulders. Beside her, Carth was trying to talk to him all the while keeping his arms pinned. Rhyska didn't bother trying to listen to what Carth was saying, instead she focused in on the details of the infected man before her.

Beneath the dried bloodstains and filth was a Republic soldier, one who she had served with aboard the Spire. He could have been someone she worked with. They might have passed each other in the corridors. Perhaps they had even stood together in the mess hall waiting for their food. Yet, she couldn't recall him. She had no clue who he was, didn't even know his name.

The clammy cold of his skin occasionally brushed against the sides of her hands as she tried to keep him still and the feel of him made her wince. His sickness radiated from him in waves. His skin was beyond pale, coated with an icy sheen of perspiration. His eyes were as wide as saucers. The red veins in his eyes were fast becoming black, winding their way across the white of his eyes. Just beneath his skin were veins so dark a blue they were almost black.

Beside her, Carth urged the soldier to hold on, to stay awake. When that didn't work, he began throwing around some rather colorful orders. Rhyska briefly glanced at Mission who looked as though she was filing away Carth's inventive military dress downs for a later date.

Miraculously, the soldier held on. He didn't look any better, but for the moment, he didn't look any worse. His convulsions had eased into little tremors and his dilated eyes stared up at them. His screams were replaced with a nearly incoherent stream of words between pained cries. "I can feel it—under my skin."

"What's your name, soldier?" Carth asked. "Was there anyone else in the pod?"

"Trying—to scratch, scrape, and claw— its way out. Can feel it."

"I need you to focus!" Carth growled. "Was there anyone else in the pod?"

"Waiting--beneath the surface."

"Blast it! Get a hold of yourself and answer me!" Carth demanded angrily.

Mission watched their exchange dubiously. She arched a brow and looked pointedly at Rhyska. Rhyska looked down at him and found his gaze locked on her. An uncomfortable chill spread from the pit of her stomach and seep into her bones, causing her to shiver. The veins beneath his skin seemed to darken and expand, standing out harshly against the white of his skin.

For some reason, the sight of those veins bothered her more than the smell and the sickness of him. It was easy to imagine her own face, deathly white with a maze of blue black veins beneath her skin.

A haze of fear and anger beat back the chill. Before she could stop herself, she pulled her blaster on him. The urge to blast him right between the eyes made her chest ache. Distantly, she heard Carth exclaim, "Nevar! What the hell are you doing?" She felt him grab the barrel of her blaster and force it upwards.

"Did you hear that?" The soldier rasped.

"It's nothing," Carth insisted as he jerked the blaster out of Rhyska's hand. "You're safe now. You're gonna be fine."

"I heard something—they've come back!" The soldier cried and began to struggle anew.

Mission's eyes went wide and she scrambled off his legs, hissing. "Something's happening to him! His skin is moving!"

"Mission, don't start! We gave him the serum, it just needs a little time to…"

Rhyska shook her head and cut him off. "Look at him, Carth. He is not fine and he isn't getting better!"

With a growl and a burst of strength, the soldier knocked Carth down. With inhuman speed he leapt forward, howling.

Mission hissed, and quickly moved to give the soldier space. "Sweet Kika! He's mutating!"

Rhyska shined the light on the soldier as he turned to face her. His eyes had gone black and another obsidian eye had broken through the skin of his forehead, trailing black rivulets of blood down his face. Beneath his skin, she could see the muscles slide and flex, accommodating a new structure. His body twitched and rippled all over as the change began in earnest.

"No! I won't—let them—take me!" The soldier screamed before running off into the dark.

"We have to go get him," Carth insisted as he went to follow. He was stopped short by the grip Rhyska had on his arm.

"You can't help him, Carth. No one can. He was too far gone when we got to him."

Carth glared at her coldly. He tore himself away from her and within moments, the dark of the Under City swallowed him.

Rhyska snatched up the soldier's blaster and they took off after him, hoping that he had the sense not to get too close to the mutating crewman. Sounds of blaster-fire in the distance made them pick up speed. When they finally caught up, they stood a short distance away and began firing on a Rakghoul that was advancing on Carth. They blasted at the beast until it fell down dead in a charred heap.

A few paces away was the partially mutated body of the crewman. Rhyska noted that his corpse suffered from a great many lacerations, but no blaster bolts. _"I guess the Rakghouls came for him after all."_

Rhyska waited for Carth to say something, do something. _"Please, don't snap. Please don't snap," _she silently begged.

Mission, on the other hand, decided to chance reasoning with him. "We gave him the serum and it was still too late, Carth. It's not your fault. There was nothing you could have…"

Her words were cut off by blaster fire as Carth put a few more scorch marks into the Rakghoul's corpse.

Mission flinched and waited for Carth to get it out of his system. Looking to Rhyska, her wary gaze pleaded with her. As if to say, _"Fix it! Make him listen."_ Mission uttered one word, a name. "Zaalbar…"

The Wookiee's name a reminder of a promise they needed to keep so that they might find the elusive Jedi and get off this forsaken cesspit.

Rhyska moved forward until she was standing next to Carth. She was glad Mission couldn't see his face. It was slack, devoid of emotion and yet his eyes were raw. They were filled with pain, loss, crushed hopes, bitter disappointments, fear, and a great deal of anger. Rhyska could see him clearly…the Hero of the Republic standing on the edge of the precipice. She could crush him with one wrong word, or she could give him something to keep him going. One word…

"The pen."

"What?"

"The Outcasts in the quarantine pen. I bet there are some people in that pen who would greatly appreciate being spared that man's fate."

"I couldn't save him."

"You did what you could."

"Did I?"

"You can't save everyone, Carth. You can try, but that's no guarantee. Time to stop mourning the lost and save the ones we can."

Carth spared one last look at the soldiers' mutated form. Handing her back her blaster, he said in a low strained voice, "Let's go."

Wordlessly, he turned and ran in the direction of the Outcast encampment. He ran as if ghosts were nipping at his heels. Rhyska and Mission sprinted after him, weapons at the ready in case they were accosted by another stray Rakghoul.

They high-tailed it until they reached the gates of the village. Barely catching their breath, they made their way through the city to the quarantine pens.

Carth headed straight to the pen and sidestepped the wide-eyed healer who demanded he stop. Ignoring her, he blasted the lock off the pen and yanked the door open. With Rakghoul serum in hand, Rhyska followed him into the pen, leaving Mission with the job of keeping the outcasts at bay. The little Twi'lek stood guard, buying them the time they needed.

Carth flashed his light around the cell and found himself face to face with an infected man and woman. Rhyska's attention was elsewhere. She flashed her light to the edge of the wall and found a group of three huddled in the corner. Two other men and a girl clutched at each other. They stared, not at Rhyska, but at the two outcasts in front of Carth. The fear on their faces was easy to read, as was Carth's sharp intake of breath. The two outcasts in front of Carth were about to change.

Carth just stood there, gazing at the outcasts' too-pale flesh and at the blue-black veins crawling beneath their skin. The man collapsed to the ground and began convulsing. He screamed as the skin of his forehead ripped open to reveal an obsidian eye. The woman fell against Carth and clutched at his jacket, begging for him to save her when fell to the ground and suddenly screamed, "No!"

That one word reverberated around the cell. Outside, Mission called out for Carth.

Carth slowly raised his blasters and pointed them at the infected villagers, thinking to himself, _"Too late. Always too late. I only ever arrive in time to watch them die. Why is that? Why does it always end up this way? Why couldn't I save them?"_

He was shaken out of his self-torment by a soft voice calling his name. "Carth…" Carth turned to look at Rhyska, who gently pried a blaster from his hand, replacing it with the vaccine.

"Carth, the people in the corner need the serum. Why don't you go over and help them?"

Carth looked over her shoulder, flashing his light to the corner where the three people waited. "What about…"

Rhyska cut him off. "Leave them to me. Go on and save the others."

Clutching the serum to him, he slowly walked over to the outcasts in the huddling in the corner of the cell. No sooner had he knelt down to inoculate them did two blaster shots ring out and the pitiful cries of the suffering ceased.

"Thank you, stranger," the girl breathed in relief. "Thank you."

Carth helped them up and followed the three of them out of the pen, never once glancing back. _"What was the point?"_ He asked himself. _"They were just two more failures in a long line of failures…"_

Mission slung her blaster rifle over her shoulder as Carth handed her the Rakghoul serum and walked on by. He looked like Hoth had warmed over and turned into a mud ball pleasure planet for Hutts. With a heavy sigh, she waited for Rhyska to exit the pen.

It didn't escape the little Twi'lek's notice that Rhyska had walked out with one of Carth's blasters. Tactlessly, Mission asked, "So, is he going off the deep end or are we still on for savin' Zaalbar?"

Draping an arm around the blue girl's shoulder, Rhyska gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Give me five minutes and we'll blaze outta here straight to your Wookiee friend. No detours. I promise."

"Cool." Mission nodded.

"Do me a favor? Give the serum to their healer and squeeze a few more medpacks out for a job well done," Rhyska requested as she located Carth, who was sitting on a crate at a nearby campsite.

Rhyska was just about to wander over to where he was moping when she suddenly turned back to face the resourceful teen. "Hey, Mission? Good work out there."

Mission blushed and nodded, unused to the professional compliment. Taking in a deep breath, she tackled the task of dealing with the shell-shocked healer.

---------------

Rhyska pulled up a crate next to Carth and willed the muscles of her body to relax. They had things yet to do and she needed to conserve as much energy as she could. She could use the stims she'd secretly swiped off the Sith corpses in the Under City, but she didn't want to dull her natural edge by making herself jittery and trigger-happy. She was certainly glad she hadn't mentioned them to Carth. The guy looked like he could use an upper, but he certainly didn't look like he could handle the spiral down afterward.

She was wondering how long it would take for him to feel the effects of losing an entire ship full of people. It had been bad when he'd seen all those soldiers in the kolto tanks, but losing the pod survivor to a mutation—that was so much worse.

He had allowed himself to hope that he could save one crewman. Let himself believe that more than just three people could survive this debacle. Yeah, all kinds of bad.

A few minutes of silence went by and Carth finally spoke. "Why did you tell me to save them?"

Rhyska frowned at the question and turned to look at him. He looked so stricken, but his eyes demanded an answer of her.

"Why? Because you needed to save someone."

Carth grunted. "And you didn't?"

"Not in the way you needed to."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Carth demanded angrily.

"It means that you and I are two completely different people. You're not just a soldier of the Republic, you're their poster boy. The Hero."

With narrowed eyes, he accused, "You're making fun of me."

"No, I'm stating a fact. When someone mentions your name, the word hero shortly attaches itself to you." Looking him in the eyes, Rhyska stated, "You're _the_ guy. The one every Republic grunt aspires to be. You save people. Not only have you been doing this for some time, it's not just a job to you. You do it because it's the right thing to do. You care."

"What's your point?"

"My point is that's not me. I'm not in dire need to rescue people. If I happen to be in the right place at the right time, well then I guess it's a good day all around. But don't be fooled. The only person I'm remotely concerned about rescuing is my own sweet self." At Carth's somewhat dumbfounded look, she amended, "No offense."

Shaking his head, as if to clear the event before, he muttered a very tired, "None taken."

"You went from a fully manned starship to, uh, just me," Rhyska murmured awkwardly. "I'm sorry for that. I know I'm not the easiest person to be around, much less count on."

A moment passed and Carth suddenly frowned. "So, you didn't do that back there to spare me?"

"Hell no! I did those poor suckers a kindness. At least they died semi-human."

Rhyska stared out into the dark, waiting patiently for Carth to digest her confession. She was just about to ask him if he was all right when he suddenly asked, "So, what now?"

"Now, we go get the Wookiee. After that we get the engine." With a mischievous side-glance she reminded him, "Then you'll buy me my three bottles of Flameout."

Carth shook his head as an unexpected chuckle escaped him. "Keep on dreamin', Knickers. We're pretty far behind schedule as it is."

Rhyska stood and stretched. Spinning around lightly on her heel, she walked over to where Mission was collecting some medpacks from the Outcast healer and nicking a few extras. Over her shoulder she retorted, "Then get off your crate and let's get going, Flyboy! We haven't got all night."

Carth watched as she and Mission split the newly acquired medpacks. Even now she was carefree. Not a trace of what she had done in the quarantine pen showed. How did she do it? How did she manage to bounce back so quickly?

Part of him was thoroughly disgusted that she could brush aside such horrors so easily. Another part of him, a traitorous part, was envious. Though he didn't dare admit it, he desperately wished he could do the same.

* * *

**Author Note:** As always, many thanks to my awesome betas. To the readers, feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	16. Issues With Trust

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**Issues With Trust…

* * *

**

Carth was still in a semi-foul mood as they ventured back into the Under City. Mission shot a few wary glances in his direction, but otherwise kept her distance. She shimmered back into stealth mode and took point, leading them straight to the sewer.

Walking beside Carth in silence, Rhyska wondered just how long it would take to track down Zaalbar and liberate the Bek's swoop engine. If she managed to get it done by tomorrow night, she'd have herself a nice little supply of Flameout.

Not that Carth looked like he interested in their bet at the moment. He still looked drained. Rhyska almost hoped they could encounter a Rakghoul or two just so Carth could get back into the groove again, but that was sort of perverse.

Once they reached the sewer, Rhyska had no doubt that there would be Rakghouls aplenty. Then the survivor in Carth would take over and whatever dark thoughts plagued him would take a backseat to the task at hand.

So when Mission reappeared with news about a group of mercenaries headed their way, Rhyska wanted to kick herself. "_I really need to learn to keep my big mouth shut." _

Mission vanished into stealth mode once more, leaving Carth and Rhyska to douse their lights and ready their blasters.

They heard the merc coming before they ever saw him. There was a lot of grunting and cursing as the individual tripped over rubble in the dark. When he finally appeared, he revealed himself to be a gangly youth in a terrible hurry. He rushed over a slightly elevated chunk of land, his position given away by the frantic dancing of a personal light device.

The longer Rhyska watched him the more certain she was that he was anything but a mercenary. Trading wry looks with Carth, she smiled when he muttered, "Rakghoul bait."

When the newbie mercenary finally made out their shapes in the dark, he came to a screeching halt and trained his rifle on them. "Don't move! I'll shoot! I—uh—mean it!"

"You shoot, I shoot, core slime!" Mission hissed as she shimmered out of stealth mode, the barrel of her rifle resting against the mercenary's temple.

"Well, that tears it!" a gruff voice spat. "I don't care what Davik says. If a teeny bopping Twi'lek can catch you with your pants around your ankles, I sure as hell don't want you slowin' me down!"

Mission didn't move a muscle, but Carth tensed up immediately. He knew that voice. His face hardened and his lips curled into a sneer when the group of mercenaries made it over the rise. His eyes fixed on their leader.

"Well, well…if it isn't Slick and the curious little joy girl," The Mandalorian drawled. His flinty gaze rested on their newest companion. "Plus one, I see."

Rhyska snorted. "Listen, buddy. I ain't anyone's joy girl."

He grinned lasciviously as the rest of his mercs gathered around him. "I caught the holo vid performance of you and my favorite waitress at Javyar's and I must say—you sure can shake it with the best of 'em."

Rhyska crooked a brow. "Holo vid? There's a holo vid of me dancing with Lyn for her audition?"

"Yep," one of the mercenaries stated.

Mission glanced sideways at her, her aim never wavering. "Audition? The Starlight Entertainer's audition? _You_ danced with _Lyn_? That whiny little shrill?"

"Is this really the time for this conversation?" Carth growled irritably.

"Yeah," griped the young mercenary at the end of Mission's barrel. "There could be Rakgouls out there!"

"Shut it, loser!" Mission poked him a little harder in the head with the tip of her rifle barrel. "I wanna hear the good stuff!"

"My name is Nealan, not loser!" the youth hissed. "If you know what's good for you, you'd put down the rifle. I belong to Davik's inner circle!"

Mission arched a brow at the uppity mercenary and jabbed him again. "I believe I told you shut your pie hole, core slime. Unless you'd like to join the inner circle of Rakghoul fodder…"

Nealan's lips became a white slash on his face as he pressed them tightly together. He looked at the Mandalorian as if expecting the mercenary to say something on his behalf, but he was thoroughly ignored and utterly forgotten.

"I actually had to drop fifty credits to get myself a copy." With a sigh, the Mandalorian muttered, "I remember the good old days when I could just take what I wanted, when I wanted."

"You're breakin' my heart," Carth spat, his trigger fingers itching. "If it were up to me, you wouldn't be here to reminisce about the good old days!"

The Exchange's top knee-breaker narrowed his flinty gaze on Carth. "Guess it's a good thing it's not up to you, Slick!"

"Whoa! Settle down, you two!" Mission chastised. "The loser is right. There's no need to attract any mutant attention."

Mission got angry, simultaneous response from both Carth and Nealan.

Just after Carth growled, "Stay out of this, Mission!" Her hostage went pale and then turned an angry shade of red, hollering, "My name is Nealan! Nealan! Not loser! Don't call me that again you flat-chested little gutter snipe or else I'll--!"

Mission's warm brown eyes flashed darkly and with one lightning quick move, she knocked him out cold with the butt of her blaster rifle. "Who are you callin' gutter sniper? And what were you lookin' at my chest for anyway, you sick perv!"

Turning her attention to Carth she hissed, "And you! Don't tell me what to do, you stupid Geezer!"

Rhyska's temple began to throb as Carth and the Mandalorian began slinging insults back and forth. The other mercenaries began throwing their two credits worth into that conversation and the way Mission was glaring at Carth, he ought to have been dead ten times over.

Rhyska's brow furrowed as she grimaced. Her eyes fell closed as she took in a deep, calming breath. With a low growl, she demanded, "Will all of you _just-be-quiet_!"

Both Carth and Mission glared at her, but the Mandalorian signaled his men for silence. For a few brief moments it was quiet—quiet enough for all of them to hear Rakghouls howling in the distance and closing in fast.

They all turned towards the sound and spotted a telltale reflective shimmer of silver and the movement of a herd of dewy silver-backs pounding towards them.

"Rakghouls!" The Mandalorian thundered. "Look alive, boys!"

The mercenary crew took one look at the number of Rakghouls headed their way and scrambled, earning them a string of curses. "Naan jhetat! You flaming di'kuts! Get back here!"

The only mercenary that stayed put was the sniveling twit that Mission had jumped. He was out cold and didn't look to be waking any time soon.

That left the four of them to stand side by side, blasting away at the beasts. Concentrating their aims in pairs, they took some out early in the game. Other Rakghouls split from the herd and ran down the fleeing mercs.

Screams of dying mercenaries filled the air even as a group of silvery beasts surrounded the remaining four.

Carth blasted at the ones closest to him as he hollered, "Back to back people! Mission, stay by me!"

The little Twi'lek complied. Carth could feel her small form just behind him, every time her blaster rifle recoiled. She stood her ground and kept firing.

From the corner of his eye, Carth watched Rhyska stand over the unconscious Nealan. She began shooting at the Rakghouls closest to her and tossing a grenade out every few minutes.

What bothered Carth the most was how well she fought beside the Mandalorian. How in sync they were. They never said a single world to each other, but Rhyska seemed to know just when and where to toss her grenades, forcing the Rakghouls into his line of fire.

The Mandalorian crowed as his repeating blaster rifle made silver and violet-colored ground beef of his targets. Rhyska and the mercenary finished off their Rakghouls faster than he or Mission could. Carth grudgingly accepted their aid to finish off the few he and Mission couldn't get to, inevitably concentrating their fire on the Rakghouls feasting on the mercenary corpses.

When it was all over, Carth was still glowering. However, he swallowed his irritation long enough to see to Mission, who was sitting on a chunk of debris, shivering.

Looking at Carth she confided in a small voice, "I wasn't really gonna shoot Chuba-face Nealan or whatever his name is, but I seriously thought we were goners back there. I've never seen a group of Rakghouls so big and all riled up like that—ever."

"It's all right, Mission." Carth flashed her a lopsided grin and clapped her on the shoulder appreciatively. "You did good."

A moment later their attention turned to Rhyska who cursed vehemently. "Bastards! I can't believe it!"

The Mandalorian looked at her sideways. "I can. Davik's bully boys aren't good for much besides collecting payments or breakin' legs. They aren't what I would call exceptional soldiers."

Looking dispassionately over the corpses of his fallen comrades, he admitted with a grunt, "I'm kind of surprised they didn't turn tail and run sooner, actually. Worthless bunch of kath hounds."

"Not them!" Rhyska said waving her blaster at the dead around them. "I mean that lecherous little schutta of a bartender! He's actually selling holo vids of that audition?!"

Carth flashed Rhyska an incredulous look. "After what we just went through? You aren't seriously gonna pitch a fit over a few measly credits, are you?"

Turning to Carth, Rhyska gave an exaggerated impression of his own question. "A few measly credits?"

Rolling her eyes at him she exclaimed, "A bunch of horny guys with credits to burn and absolutely nothing to do until the quarantine is lifted is hardly what I'd call measly. That's pay dirt! Specifically, it's _my_ pay dirt and I want my cut, blast it!"

"I knew I liked the look of you!" the Mandalorian chuckled as he double-checked the energy cartridge of his repeater blaster. Gesturing to Rhyska, he drawled, "Sure, you look like a good gust of wind could blow you away, but despite being a little on the short side, you held your own better than some of the so-called mercs I've been saddled with on this rock."

"Who are you calling short?" Rhyska demanded hotly.

"It was a professional compliment. I don't give those out often and seeing as how my crew abandoned me in the middle of a firefight I find myself reluctantly owing you one. So, don't go all girly on me now," Canderous replied gruffly. "I might lose what little respect I have for you."

"Whatever," Rhyska muttered, letting the insult slide.

"The name's Canderous, by the way. Of the Clan Ordo," he offered with a slight nod.

Rhyska flashed him a crooked grin. "I'm Rhyska Nevar. That's Mission and you've already met Carth Onasi, your biggest fan."

Canderous snorted at that last comment. "Well, I am a popular guy." Gazing at Mission, who warily nodded back he drawled, "I know of the Bek's favorite little cha'kaar, though normally she's got a Wookiee with her..."

Mission looked away, scuffing the dirt with her foot.

"Anyhow, I best get going. Gotta get this salvage back to Davik. He's going to be pissed that the Vulkars stripped the pods first. Probably gonna be more pissed that no one except the cowardly maalras here survived." Canderous eyed the unconscious man disgustedly and snorted. "Oh, well. Fewer people to pay..."

Turning back to Rhyska he said in a low voice, "If you and Slick ever part ways, look me up. I can always use a reliable blaster for hire."

"We won't be staying on this multi-tiered ball of mud long enough for her to consider working with the likes of you," Carth glowered.

"Don't get tetchy now, Slick," Canderous warned. "I think the little grenadier can make up her own mind."

Carth gnashed his teeth as Canderous turned away from them and crouched down by Nealan to slap him awake. The groggy merc's eyes widened at the carnage around him. He stood on shaky legs, gripping his rifle tightly to him.

Canderous stood and scooped up a bag of salvage next to a nearby corpse and tossed it to the wide-eyed merc. He shook his head as Nealan caught the bag and stumbled backwards from the bulk of it. "I think we both know your aim ain't worth a damn, so you get to play pack bantha."

"I can't carry all the salvage," Nealan stuttered.

"You will if you want to live," Canderous sneered. "Davik paid me to recover his salvage. He did not pay me to baby sit your scrunty little behind."

Nealan's long face twisted in anger. "You can't treat me this way, once he finds out--"

"Finds out what?" Canderous snarled. "Go ahead, punk! Ask me if I care that he's the hound that spawned ya."

The Mandalorian got right up in the younger man's face and asked mockingly, "You gonna run to daddy and say what? That a tiny slip of a Twi'lek smacked you upside the head? That other than me, you were saved by a blaster-for-hire and a cantina dancer?"

An ominous chuckled rumbled out of Canderous Ordo. "I think we both know how Davik Kang deals with _weak links_. You go running your mouth off to your old man and you'll just give him three reasons to shoot you dead."

Nealan audibly gulped and his knuckles went white from clutching the salvage bag so hard. He slowly shouldered his burden and began collecting the other two salvage bags.

"Yeah, that's what I figured you'd say," Canderous said with a feral grin. The Mandalorian turned his flinty gaze back to Rhyska and Mission, nodding to them. The dark look on Carth's face made Canderous' grin widen.

With a mock salute, the Mandalorian made his way back towards the Under City village and the awaiting elevator back up to the lower levels. Nealan trailed behind him, lugging the heavy salvage bags in silence.

"When I grow up, I totally wanna learn the secret of making people my personal bantha bitch," Mission murmured in awe.

Rhyska laughed at Mission's confession. Her laughter set Mission off on a fit of giggles.

Carth stared at the two of them, unable to voice his incredulity. Shaking his head, he muttered, "When we rescue your friend, you'll have a Wookiee. He can rip people's arms off for you. There isn't a single thing that Mandalorian has that you could possibly want."

The bitterness in Carth's voice stopped their laughter cold.

Mission pursed her lips and stared intently at Carth. In a quiet voice she urged them back to the task at hand. "Come on, let's go get Big Z."

Soundlessly, Rhyska followed Mission as she led them towards the sewer entrance. Following closely behind her was Carth, who was still glowering over their encounter with the Canderous.

Every once in a while, Rhyska glanced back at Carth. The look she saw in his eyes bothered her. Before running into Canderous Ordo, Rhyska could measure the trust in Carth's eyes. She could see the faith he placed in her.

Now, Carth was unreadable. Unreadable disturbed Rhyska considerably. Unreadable equaled unreliable. Unreliable equaled untrustworthy. Considering where they were going and the things they would have to do, trust was paramount.

* * *

The trek to the sewer was short, but so awkwardly silent that when Mission went ahead to check out the entrance, Rhyska took it upon herself to clear the air.

"So, Carth?"

"Yeah?" he tonelessly answered, not even looking in her direction.

"I was wondering if maybe we could pick up where we left off in our last conversation."

He scanned their surroundings with a frown. "What conversation?"

Rhyska arched a brow at his reply. "The one you prefer to avoid."

"Lady, I prefer to avoid a lot of things," Carth began irritably. "You're going to have to be a little more specific. Although, I don't think this is the best time…"

"We could be killed by Gamorreans, mutate into Rakghouls, or get eaten by weird and slimy sewer creatures! There is no such thing as the best time!"

Carth held up a hand as if to ward off her words. "Fine. What exactly would you like to discuss?"

Stopping just a few feet from where Mission awaited them at the sewer entrance, Rhyska turned to Carth and searched his face. She frowned when he evaded her gaze. "Before we head into the sewers, I need to know…Do you trust me, Carth?"

Rolling his eyes, Carth exclaimed, "Oh, I do _not_ want to have this conversation!"

"Well, I suppose that answers that." Rhyska honestly didn't know why she expected his answer to be different, but she felt disappointed. Extremely disappointed.

Carth glared at her and turned away, intent on getting into the sewers, intent on doing whatever it took to not have _this_ conversation. He should have known that she wouldn't let it slide.

"Even after all the stuff we've been through—you don't, do you?"

Those words stopped him in his tracks and reluctantly, he turned back to her and tried to explain, "Look, I'm glad to have you along. We wouldn't have gotten as far as we have, as quickly as we have without your…uh…unorthodox skills."

Shaking her head, Rhyska snorted in derision. "Wow, smooth delivery, Flyboy. I think I may cry."

"Let me finish, Nevar. Trust just doesn't come easy to me. I used to think the people I trusted were solid. That the faith I placed in them was unshakable," Carth raked a hand through his hair and an uncertain look crept its way across his face. "I found out the hard way that I was wrong. Now, it's just easier to expect treachery. I find I'm rarely disappointed that way.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she slowly concluded, "So, not only do you not trust me, you expect treachery?"

Carth shrugged. "It is the way it is."

"Whatever that means, bantha-turd!" Rhyska snapped.

"That's kind of uncalled for," Carth retorted. "I was just being honest!"

"Yeah, well, calling you bantha-turd was _me _being honest," Rhyska spat as she stalked away. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard of! I mean seriously. We're about to get into the thick of it and I need to know that you've got my back."

"I've got your back!" Carth exclaimed, falling into step with her.

"How can you possible have my back, you bone-headed cannok?"

"I trust that you want off this planet as badly as I do."

"Carth, you really need to pull your head out of your butt. I don't know if you've noticed, but _everyone_ wants off this planet as badly as you do!"

"Whoa!" Carth said, grabbing a hold of Rhyska's arm. "Knickers, maybe you need to cycle down some. There's no need to get hostile."

Jerking her arm out of his grip, she snarled, "Buddy, you haven't seen hostile!"

"Look, be reasonable. It's nothing personal. I'm like this with everyone," he replied defensively. "Hell, in times like these I'd figure a smuggler would be the first person to understand. I don't imagine you people do a lot of trusting in your line of work."

"Now that's where you're wrong, Carth," she corrected him. "Even smugglers and thieves exercise a little trust. They're just very economical about it."

Staring at him with hard eyes, she said aloud what she had thought had been obvious since the day she woke up in their crappy little room in the Upper City. "For the duration of this _job_, I am bound to trust you, Carth. I trust that you'll do your part to keep me alive, because that is my promise to you. Has been since the day you roped me into this mess."

Carth grunted, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "For the duration of the job…"

Rhyska nodded. "Yes."

"How very mercenary," he answered coldly.

Rhyska paled at his words. The promise she made him meant a hell of a lot more than the crappy one she'd been forced to make to serve the Republic. "Whatever, Flyboy! After this conversation, it's not like you've given me much reason to trust you."

"That's exactly my point! You shouldn't trust me, or Bastila, or even yourself!" Carth exclaimed, suddenly animated.

"So, the real problem is that you don't trust yourself or your judgments…"

"Oh, no you don't," he cried angrily. "Thieving, conniving corpse-robbers do _not_ get to analyze me. Don't even go there!"

"For a guy who doesn't trust, you sure put a lot of faith in the Republic," Rhyska pointed out nastily.

"Don't confuse trust with duty. It's my duty to see Bastila Shan back to the Republic, as she is apparently our only hope in defeating Malak and his army of turncoats."

A look that almost resembled hurt flashed across Rhyska's features. Carth felt a twinge of guilt stirring inside him. "Don't feel bad, Gorgeous. For what it's worth, I trust you way more than Bastila or the Jedi she represents."

"Considering you don't trust anyone, it's not really worth much."

"It's gonna have to do, because that's all I've got," he stated flatly. "Now, if you don't mind. We really should get going. The sooner we find the Wookiee, the sooner we can get that engine."

"Haunted by death, wallowing in survivor's guilt, consumed by revenge, and dead certain that the universe is out to get you," Rhyska drawled. "I gotta say, Carth, that's about the sorriest existence I could possibly imagine."

A maelstrom of emotions flickered though Carth's eyes. Anger, despair, anguish and then…nothing. He walked away from her, neither admitting, nor denying, her words.

* * *

**Author Note:** As always, many thanks to my awesome betas. To the readers, feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing.


	17. Lost Wookiee Found

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**Lost Wookie Found

* * *

**The Under City sewer was everything Rhyska imagined it would be—dank, foul-smelling, and populated by a numerous variety of skittering rodents.

On the up-side, there were dim, flickering lights littering the catwalk. The soft yellow light effectively illuminated the blue, green, and brown colored slime that decorated the sewer walls.

"A Gamorrean's home away from home," Rhyska muttered under her breath as she fought the urge to rub her twitching nose.

Carth passed Rhyska by wordlessly, following Mission up the catwalk to a heavy set of doors.

Rhyska hung back, studying her surroundings a bit longer. She was ridiculously happy some Tarisian back in the day had the foresight to build a catwalk. Three to four feet below the catwalk a brownish-green stream constantly flowed. It looked shallow, deceptively so. Garbage, muck, and even a few Rakghoul body parts flowed with the current before disappearing into the depths. She found it hard to imagine anything living in the vile waters, but when a tell tale ripple moving against the current snagged a rotting Rakghoul arm and vanished into the waters, she made a face. _Ewwwwww!_

"Get over here!" Carth hissed to her. "We've got a problem."

Rhyska flashed Carth an annoyed look walked over to him. He and Mission had slid the door open a crack, worry etched on their faces.

"They weren't there before," Mission whispered. "They, uh, don't look like they're planning on moving any time soon."

Rhyska frowned at the Twi'lek's explanation and peeked into the next room. Milling around a room that seemed to lead to several corridors was a whole pack of silver backs.

"Huh, that's a lot of Rakghouls..."

"No kidding," Carth muttered dryly. "We open the door and we're likely to get overrun."

"Worry no more, Captain Tight-pants!" Rhyska grinned, producing a grenade and sliding the door open a little wider.

Carth grabbed her arm to prevent her from opening the door any further. "Again with the grenades! Listen, we don't need that kind of attention!"

"What? It solves at least half the problems in that room. You can still shoot the other half," Rhyska pointed out.

"You could end up tipping off the Gamorreans," Carth warned.

"And I'm not really thrilled with the idea of a sewer full of Rakghouls bum rushing us," Mission interjected nervously.

Rhyska cajoled, "Come on, you two! It's not like Gamorreans are the brightest of bulbs. We can take them! As for the Rakghouls--I've got plenty of grenades. I even scavenged some stun grenades and plasma ones, too."

"You're a menace," he muttered. "You know that, right?" He released her arm and drew his blasters. Beside him, Mission readied her rifle.

Rhyska grinned.

A minute later, the door slid open wide enough to allow a grenade to roll into the room and then quickly slid closed. The explosive ball came to a complete stop in the middle of the room, attracting the attention of a nearby Rakghoul who leaned down to give it an experimental sniff. The grenade exploded in a shower of metal fragments, marking that Rakghoul and several others as casualties.

A moment later, the door slid open. The trio entered the room blasting away, making short work of the remaining beasts.

After that, Mission's sense of urgency seemed to seep into Carth. A rhythm was quickly established as they moved from room to room dispatching Rakghouls and hungry little rodents.

The pace they set barely gave Rhyska enough time to poke around some of the remains she spotted along the way, but she managed to snag a couple of old datapads and some munitions.

"Come on, come on," urged Mission. "It's just a little bit further. I remember coming down this hallway."

Rhyska nodded and hefted her nearly bursting rucksack with a grunt.

"If I might make a suggestion," Carth began dryly, "perhaps it would be best if you could curb your little klepto tendencies until we rescue the Wookiee and get the Bek's engine back."

Rhyska narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips. "Klepto tendencies, huh? That's pretty cute, Flyboy. Did you come up with that all by yourself?"

Gritting his teeth, Carth glared at her. "As a matter of fact, Knickers, I did."

For a moment all they did was stare each other down, each waiting for the other to flinch first. Rhyska's hands slid down the straps of her rucksack to rest on her hips. Being the shorter of the two, she lifted her chin up defiantly without breaking eye contact.

They were still wordlessly glaring at each other when Mission hollered at them from the other end of the hallway. "What are you two doing?"

They simultaneously turned to look at their teenage guide who rested the barrel of her rifle on her shoulder. One tight fist rested on her hip, her foot tapping impatiently. "Don't stand there like a couple of nerfs! Hurry up!"

Flashing each other irritated looks; they readied their blasters and strode over to where the little Twi'lek waited.

"Sorry, Mission," Carth replied tightly. "We were just having a little chat."

Mission arched a dubious brow at them. "Carth, I don't need to get whizzed on to know a pissin' contest is in progress."

Carth had the grace to look a little sheepish. Rhyska merely shrugged. It was hardly the first time she'd acted juvenile and got caught. It probably wouldn't be the last, either.

"Seriously!" Mission huffed. "Do you guys think you can handle being mature about this? I'm trying to save my best friend here! Jeez!"

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, Mission stalked off.

"Way to go, Carth!" Rhyska teasingly accused as she hurried to catch up to Mission. "Now she's all upset."

"That's hardly my fault!" Carth ran alongside her and scowled. "You started it!"

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"Did not."

"Did, too!"

Their childish bickering was interrupted by an irate Twi'lek. "What are you guys? Four? Shut up!"

"See! I told you it was your fault!" Rhyska said with a grin.

"You know what?" Carth exclaimed, totally annoyed. "I'm gonna shoot you."

His only reply was her laughter.

---------------

In retrospect, Rhyska considered that perhaps messin' with Carth wasn't such a great idea. If she had known that she was going to end up joined at the hip with a walking carpet she would have kept her mouth shut. If she had, then maybe Carth would have been the one saddled with a Wookiee life debt and the added responsibility of a teenaged Twi'lek.

"_The universe has it in for me. That's all there is to it,"_ Rhyska mentally deduced with a tired sigh. Her gaze lazily took in their current surroundings.

At the moment, the four of them were holed up in a room a couple of corridors down from where they had rescued Zaalbar. The only thing the filthy room had going for it was the fact it still had a working lock. It actually smelled worse than half the passages and rooms they had already ventured through.

She sat back to back with Carth, her vibroblade and blaster within easy reach beside her. Zaalbar rested across the narrow room from them with Mission curled up against him, fast asleep.

Rhyska had taken first shift so that everybody could get some rest. In two hours, it would be Carth's turn, but like the Wookie, he only feigned sleep. Every time a noise broke the silence outside their safe haven, she felt Carth shift behind her and she could see Zaalbar's grip on his bowcaster tighten. So, it seemed the only one getting any kind of rest was Mission.

Her gaze rested on the little Twi'lek, recalling the events that happened barely an hour before…

---------------

The poor kid was so exhausted. Mission had just about worked herself into a panic trying finding her Wookiee friend. When they finally found the Gamorrean encampment in the sewer, it was all Carth could do to keep the teen from recklessly throwing herself into harm's way to get to Zaalbar. He played interference with a nearby Gamorrean guard, buying Mission the time she needed to disable the lock on Zaalbar's prison.

That left Rhyska as the most mobile of the three. After activating her stealth unit, she moved into action—tossing a stun grenade here, a little slash and dash with her vibroblade there. Despite their brawn, the weight of their battle plates and axes slowed the dumb brutes extensively. Unseen, Rhyska evaded the deadly swings of their Arg'garoks and managed to trip them up a time or two, making them easier targets for Carth to blast.

The second Mission cracked the code on Zaalbar's prison, he emerged from the cell with a thunderous growl. Grabbing the nearest Gamorrean, he let the pitiful swine know just how unhappy he was.

The fight had been relatively short after that. Sure, she could have helped Carth and Mission blast the remaining Gamorreans from here to the Tarisian Moon, but it wasn't as interesting as watching a seriously pissed off Wookiee grapple with the pigman.

Rhyska supposed that was the moment she had screwed herself. A Gamorrean patrol of two entered the room from the far end of the adjoining corridor. Carth and Mission concentrated their fire on the patrol leader. The second came up behind Zaalbar, who was still occupied with twisting his guard's head off.

Before the Gamorrean patroller could take a swing at the Wookiee, Rhyska deactivated her stealth unit, pulled out her boot knife, and rushed the pigman from behind. Jumping onto his back, she wrapped an arm around its fat head and wrenched it back, exposing its grayish green throat. Her other arm closed in, the knife sinking into the Gamorrean's neck. The brute squealed at the kill shot and began to gurgle as the knife sliced all the way across.

The Gamorrean dropped onto his knees, his heavy axe falling uselessly to the floor as he tried to staunch the flow of his life's blood.

She remembered standing over the corpse, wiping the Gamorrean's blood off on her thigh. Of looking up and seeing Mission's brown eyes saucer-wide as she stood next to her friend. She recalled hearing Zaalbar's soft trilling as he gazed down at the corpse at her feet. Then she remembered watching Carth mumble something about '_checking the exits for any other surprises_' as he made a hasty retreat. The intense look Zaalbar flashed at her when he stood and looked at her.

That was the moment she knew Carth had screwed her. It only took a second for her to recall Wookiee life debts. _Bastard! _

Before she could excuse herself, Zaalbar set a heavy hand on her shoulder and rumbled the words she had dreaded hearing…

"_You saved my life, human. To repay you in kind, I am honor bound to protect you for the rest of your days."_

To say that she had handled Zaalbar's declaration of protection poorly was an understatement. Her normally slick veneer and silver tongue disintegrated into a string of stuttering, half-spliced rationalizations.

"No!" Rhyska answered, shaking her head vehemently. "That's completely unnecessary and—uh—untrue! Mission saved you! She asked us for some backup and um—support—to ensure your rescue. That was the deal. Your safe return for an inside route into the Vulkar base. So, you see, it was Mission, or if you like, Carth, my superior. He makes all the decisions. I'm just a peon."

Carth chose that moment to enter the room. "She might be my subordinate, but she really doesn't do the whole listening thing very well."

His eyes shined deviously as he turned to their guide. "Mission, please tell your friend that Rhyska Nevar saved his life of her own free will and not because I told her to."

Mission arched a brow at the two of them and rolled her eyes. "I don't have to tell him anything, Carth. Big Z understands Basic just fine."

"Oh…" Carth blinked in surprise. "That's good to know. I don't understand Wookiee-speak."

"You mean Shyriiwook?" Rhyska interjected, flashing Carth an '_I'm going to kill you later_' look. "Anyone can learn their language, but few have any luck speaking it. By the way, thanks for stabbing me in the back, Flyboy!"

Carth shook his head and chuckled. "Right back at ya, Peon. Don't think I didn't hear you trying to sell me down the river."

A rumble erupted out of Zaalbar, which Mission translated for Carth's benefit.

"Wookiee life debts are a really big deal, you two!" Turning to Rhyska she stated, "You totally saved Big Z and he's pledged to protect you always. It's not something he's just gonna take back."

"I realize that it's a big deal, but he really should reconsider it. I am not a nice person and I'm not exactly stable, either. Just ask him," Rhyska replied, jabbing a finger at Carth. "I'm a thieving, conniving, low-life corpse robber!"

"Whoa!" Carth interjected, holding a hand up as if to stop her words. "I never said conniving or low-life. Don't go putting words into my mouth, Knickers."

Looking at Zaalbar, Carth casually added, "However, the rest is true. She is a corpse robber."

Zaalbar growled in irritation, making Carth take a step or two back. "Yeah, I didn't catch any of that…"

Rhyska felt her heart sink as Mission translated for Carth. She already knew exactly what he had said.

"Big Z says it's not about her lack of character or numerous social deficiencies. It's about honor. Specifically, _his_ honor. Sorry, Rhys. Nothing you say is gonna change his mind. He's officially your body guard until your dying day." Mission pursed her lips and looked sideways at her friend as she added, "or his."

"Suit yourself, Big Fella," Rhyska said tiredly. "No use arguing with a Wookiee."

Mission walked over to Rhyska and gave her a comforting squeeze. "Look on the bright side."

Rhyska grunted and looked at the smiling Twi'lek. "There's a bright side?"

"Yup!" Mission grinned slyly. "It's a package deal! Where Big Z goes, I go. So, not only do you have a Wookiee watchin' your back, you've got me, too!"

"A package deal…" Rhyska muttered, dumbstruck. "That's just great…"

"Isn't it, though?" Mission gushed happily. "You, me, and Zaalbar! It's gonna be stellar!"

Rhyska nodded lamely at the teen. Reaching into her rucksack, she retrieved some medpacks and nutria bars. Tossing them to her teammates she bleakly suggested, "How about you guys find a nice, quiet, defensible place to cool your heels. I'm gonna rob a few corpses. Shouldn't take but a minute…"

Without waiting for an answer, she crouched down and began searching the bodies for useable goods.

Carth and Mission went off in search of a safe room and like the good life-debted Wookiee he was, Zaalbar stood guard over Rhyska from a safe distance. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the smell of his now dead captors. Rhyska ignored his protests and located a lock box she had spied earlier.

She quickly cracked it open and transferred its contents into her rucksack. At the bottom of the lock box was a large tool belt and a bowcaster, a weapon that no doubt belonged to Zaalbar. Slinging the belt over her shoulder, she carried the bowcaster over to her silent guardian.

"Seeing how it's just the two of us," Rhyska began cautiously. "There are things that need saying."

Zaalbar's eyes narrowed at her words. "_Speak._"

Rhyska handed him back his tool belt. "If I offended earlier, it wasn't my intention. I don't personally know any Wookiees, but I have heard that they place a high value on honor."

"_You are correct_."

"I am not in an honorable profession and I can't rightly say that anything I've _ever_ done has been honorable. It would be more accurate to say that I've done what I needed to survive."

Rhyska studied the bowcaster in her hands. Zaalbar flashed her an irritated look as she hefted it and took aim at a scurrying rodent down the hallway. Despite the Wookiee's low rumble of protest, Rhyska kept talking. "Carth's a Republic soldier and I'm a conscripted mercenary. We are searching for a survivor from the vessel that blew in Taris' orbit. We _cannot_ leave this rock without her. She's important, or so Carth keeps telling me. After we rescue her, we plan on getting off this rock. That is the plan." Holding up a hand she added, "Before you ask, there aren't any specifics on how we are going to accomplish any of that. We're sort of just making it up as we go."

"Nice bowcaster," Rhyska said, as she held it out to Zaalbar. He cautiously accepted it, simultaneously checking it over and wiping off her prints and probably the Gamorreans.

Rhyska chuckled. "You and Carth should get along just fine. He's pretty attached to his blaster, too._"_

Her comment earned her a snarl from the Wookiee.

Cocking a brow, she continued. "I'm telling you this for two reasons. Number one, if you and Mission are going to roll with me, you need to know the ultimate agenda. _Get off of Taris_. Reason number two, with the Sith quarantine in place, getting off this rock isn't going to be easy. In fact, I'm probably going to do several unsavory and dishonorable things to help achieve the goal. So my question is this: are we going to have a problem?"

For a moment the shaggy, muscled Wookiee stared at her. Whiskey colored eyes stared at her hard, gauging her. _"You are concerned about how your actions will reflect upon my honor?"_

Rhyska shrugged. "Honorable people worry about their reputations. Hooking up with thieves and liars generally tarnishes one's reputation."

"_And are you a liar_?"

A crooked smile tugged at her lips. "When the occasion calls for it."

"_I have sworn a life debt to you and I will keep it. My honor and reputation have no value to anyone outside of Kashyyk and even there…" _Zaalbar trailed off. For a brief moment a haunted look flickered in his eyes and then it was gone, replaced by a steely determination. _"My association with you is not a problem."_

"_Blast!_" she mentally shouted. _"So much for a last ditch attempt at talking some sense into a Wookiee. Not just any Wookiee, a brooding Wookiee. What are the odds?" _Outwardly she remained calm, nodding her acceptance. "Well, then. I guess we'd best catch up with the others."

---------------

That had been an hour ago. The longest hour of her life… In the first hour of her watch she'd dumped out the contents of her rucksack and reorganized everything.

Taking stock of what she had, she set aside three little piles of goodies for her teammates. Each pile contained her excess medpacks and antidotes. She even added a couple of nutria bars and hydra drink-shots to rev them up for their little impromptu siege of the Vulkar base.

The last items she added to each of the piles were the extra energy shield cuffs she had scavenged here and there. She had a feeling they were all gonna need a bit of extra protection once they were under way again.

Rhyska had hoped that organizing her plundered loot would be enough to relax her, but it wasn't. She'd even munched on some nutria bars and downed a couple of hydra shots, but that didn't help either.

Not only was she having a heck of a time trying to assimilate a Wookiee and teenaged Twi'lek into her survivalist equation, because of the constant sound of running water and all the hydra shots she drank, she had to pee like a speedy malraas.

"_It's all Carth's fault_!" she mentally fumed. With a growl, Rhyska jabbed Carth none to gently with her elbow.

"Ouch! Do you mind? I'm tryin' to get some beauty sleep over here," Carth grouched in a low voice.

"Whatever, bantha-turd," Rhyska whispered venomously. "The only one in this room actually sleeping is Mission. I gotta go take care of some business. Try not to blast me when I come back."

"What business could you possibly have right this very second?" Carth challenged.

A low rumble rolled out of Zaalbar who waited expectantly for her answer.

Unhooking her vibroblade she drew it up and pointed it at the source of her irritation and hissed dangerously low, "Understand that this is not a debate. I'm going to pee and I plan on doing it alone!"

Looking directly at Zaalbar she stated flatly, "If I catch you out in the hall following me, Wookiee or not, you _will_ be eating my blade."

"And you!" Rhyska pointed her blade at a very wide awake Carth and hissed. "Just give me a reason, I dare you!" With one last scathing look, she exited the room.

Zaalbar whined softly.

"Yeah, seriously," Carth agreed. "She had me at _pee_. Everything else was totally unnecessary."

* * *

**Author Note:** As always, many thanks to my awesome betas. To the readers, feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	18. The Guardian Beast

**Disclaimer:** I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**The Guardian Beast

* * *

**Rhyska had hoped that when they got underway the trip to the Vulkar's back entrance would happen quickly and perhaps a little more quietly.

At the moment, she and Big Z stood in some dismal corridor junction. The towering Wookiee scrounged parts from one of the fallen sentry droids they had just dispatched. Rhyska leaned lazily against the railing of the sewer junction and skimmed though the contents of the datapad she had scrounged the day before.

Both she and Zaalbar were making themselves busy, neither one interested in getting stuck in the middle of Mission and Carth's yelling match.

Rhyska wasn't even sure how it started. She only knew that it escalated because Carth had once again stuck his foot in his mouth. The second the word _kid_ was uttered, the gauntlet was thrown.

_When would Carth learn?_ Rhyska shook her head and blocked out their loud verbal exchange.

"What are you, deaf?" Mission exclaimed. "They've got hearing aids to fix that problem, geezer!"

"Why, you—little brat!" Carth sputtered angrily. "All I meant was--"

Rhyska blocked them out as she noticed a rather startling similarity between the datapads she found in the sewer to the one they had recovered from Malya's remains.

If the datapads weren't full of ronto crap, they described an ancient Tarisian facility that existed during a time when Taris wasn't covered in sky scrapers.

As Carth and Mission continued to fight, a crooked smile curved Rhyska's lips. It was too bad that Carth would never agree to a little adventure off the beaten path. Rolling her eyes and sighing heavily, she muttered under her breath, "Oh no—can't have that."

Still, she couldn't help but indulge the fantasy for a little while longer. What did this ancient Tarisian paradise look like? How did it come to be forgotten and more importantly, was there any treasure?

Rhyska's crooked grin faltered a bit when the fantasy of mysterious places and riches beyond her imaginings was replaced by the smiling face of their Under City guide, Shaleena. The younger girl had never known anything beyond the dark desolation of the Under City. Never stood beneath the sun, never gazed at the stars, never felt the soft breezes or the fall of rain…

A whole list of _nevers_ paraded thought Rhyska's mind when her train of thought was swept aside by a very worked up Twi'lek.

"You agree with me, right?" Mission leveled her with a pair of blazing brown eyes and demanded, "Tell him I'm not a kid!"

Before Rhyska could even utter a syllable, Carth cut her off and angrily spat, "You're not a kid! You're a whiney child! A brat!"

Rhyska sighed tiredly and turned to her furry protector. "Zaalbar, how about you and Carth take point for awhile. We're kind of running behind schedule."

Walking over to the irate teen, Rhyska draped an arm around the younger girl's shoulder and added, "Mission and I will guard the rear."

Big Z brushed shaggy chunks of hair out of his eyes as he tucked a salvageable part into his little pouch. _"Don't lag too far behind,"_ he warned.

"We'll be right behind you," Rhyska promised.

"Whoa! Hold up! I don't speak Wookiee," Carth interjected.

"Then I guess it's time to learn," Rhyska informed him with a smirk.

Carth shot her a vexed look and ran to catch up to Zaalbar, who had gone ahead without him.

Beside her, Mission muttered quietly, "I'm not a kid."

Rhyska glanced sideways at the teen and asked, "Do you hear me disagreeing with you?'

"No, but still…"

"I get you."

"How come he doesn't? I feel like I'm talking to a wall!"

"Carth isn't exactly forthcoming with personal information, but he did accidentally let some slip out once."

"What about?"

"About the wife and kid he had."

"Had?"

"Had."

"Oh…"

"I think deep down he knows you're capable, but I think you're about the same age his kid was the last time he saw him."

"I ain't his kid!"

"Did I say you were?"

"No, but---"

"Let a girl finish before you go interrupting…now, where was I? Oh, right. Carth was a parent, he can't really help it. He's also a soldier, if you were my age he'd probably treat you like a fleet grunt. It's just the way he sees things. Try to think of him as a sort of temporary guardian."

An unusually large rodent scurried from the shadows and snapped at Rhyska's boot. She stared at it in wide eyed horror. _"Good grief! That critter's the size of a gizka!"_

A look of distaste and irritation flashed over her features as she tried to shoo it away, but the rodent was persistent. Her patience with it ended when it latched its claws into her lucky boots. With a scowl, Rhyska swiftly scooped the rodent up with her foot and sent it flying into the air with a squeak.

Without even missing a beat, Mission continued ranting. "What _is_ it with everybody?! What if I don't want a guardian, baby sitter, or whatever…"

Eyes flashing dangerously, Rhyska hissed, "If I have to accept the services of a Wookiee and his Twi'lek partner, then you have to accept temporary back-up from a Hero of the Republic."

Belatedly, she added, "Besides, he promised Zaerdra that he'd keep you safe."

Mission stopped dead in her tracks with a scowl. "He promised her what?!"

Rhyska marveled at how animated her young friend was. In an instant, the scowl on Mission's face bloomed into one of confused surprise as she digested the rest of what was just divulged.

"Wait a minute. Did you just say hero? _That_ Carth?" the teen said, jerking her thumb in the general direction of where Zaalbar and Carth had disappeared off to. "That geezer's a _hero_? Are you messin' with me?"

"No, I'm not messin' with you!" Rhyska eyed the teen narrowly. "Every grunt on the Endar Spire talked about him. Even the mercs I hung out with knew about him. Apparently, he's the real deal. He's got medals, commendations, and all that other I'm-a-hero crap."

Mission rolled her eyes and snorted. "Taris isn't that far out of the loop. If he's some Fleet big shot, how come I ain't never heard of him?"

Rhyska shrugged. "I've never heard of him, either. In fact, if we hadn't gotten stuck in the same escape pod, we probably never would have met. Still, if my ex-roomie Trask was to be believed, Carth was a hot shot pilot from the Mandalorian Wars. He worked his way through the ranks. I guess he was supposed to be some kind of war consultant to the Jedi."

Mission snorted. "The same Jedi you guys are looking for?"

"Who said we're looking for a Jedi?"

"You just did," Mission replied brightly. "Z told me that the two of you are lookin' for a soldier. And you just said that Carth was playing babysitter to some Jedi. Your _friend _must be pretty special if you're willing to bust into the Vulkar base. Whoever you're lookin' for is definitely a Jedi."

"Perceptive."

Mission smiled at the compliment. "I have to be. If I relied on everyone else for info, I'd never know anything." Pursing her lips, the little Twi'lek took a moment to consider this new information. With a resigned sigh, she finally gave in. "I suppose I could cut the geezer some slack and allow him to be my—back-up."

Rhyska clapped the teen on her shoulder. "I'm sure Captain Tight-pants would appreciate it."

"Captain Tight-pants?" Mission echoed slyly. "Have you been checking out Carth's butt?"

Unruffled by her young friend's teasing, Rhyska just smiled. "I'm sorry, Squirt. Did you say something?"

"Did you just call me Squirt?"

"I might have, Half Pint. Or maybe you need to get your ears checked. I heard they've got hearing aids for that kind of stuff…"

---------------

It wasn't long after, that they found the shielded entrance to the Vulkar's back door.

"Not long now," Mission stated with a grin.

"You've been saying that for the last hour," mumbled Carth.

"Well, it won't be long, geezer. That's why I said it," Mission barked tetchily.

Zaalbar grumbled to his little Twi'lek partner. _"Mission, did you tell them about the…"_

Mission cut him off mid-growl, "It's cool, Zaalbar. I'm sure it's nothin' they can't handle."

Carth's gaze swept from the spitfire teen to her towering, hairy friend. "Huh? What? What did he say?"

Eyes narrowed suspiciously on their Twi'lek guide, Rhyska asked, "Tell us what, Mission?"

"It's best if we show you," Mission replied sheepishly.

The teen led them down a murky corridor that descended at an angle to a set of thick durasteel doors. Beneath the catwalk, the sewage flowed freely. The stench around them worse than even the room they had rested in.

"What is up with this room? It smells worse than the rest of the sewer," Carth asked, a peculiar look spreading across his features. "Smells like something died in here—a couple of times."

Zaalbar wrinkled his nose and nodded at Carth.

At the foot of the door, Mission waved them over and whispered, "Be really quiet, okay? No loud noises and absolutely no lights."

After everyone had switched off their lights, Mission and Zaalbar carefully slid the doors open wide enough to peer into the shadowy room.

Mission crouched low on the bottom of the entrance. Carth loomed over her and did the same. Rhyska squeezed in from the other side and wedged her head above Mission's, much to Carth's irritation.

Zaalbar shook his head at the sight of the three of them made. He walked up behind them and scanned the room over Carth's head.

Carth furrowed his brow and whispered, "Mission, what exactly are we lookin' for? Why don't we just go in?"

"No!" Mission hissed. "It's in there."

Aggravated and more than a little bit confused, Carth exclaimed, "I can't see a damn thing! Mission, what's going on?"

"Shut it, geezer!" Mission hissed. "I told you we have to be quiet!"

Rhyska suppressed the urge to sigh as she scanned the room. _If someone could see us now, we'd probably look like four demented alien tiki heads._ Her sight had barely readjusted to the darkness when a massive, clawed hand materialized from the shadows. It grabbed a hold of the blast doors and tried to pry them open.

Their surprised shrieks drowned out the screech the doors made as they buckled under the pressure.

In her haste to avoid the hooked talons that reached through the small opening in the jammed doorway, Rhyska fell backwards over the catwalk railings and vanished into the depths with a strangled yelp.

Zaalbar roared at the beast. He grabbed both Carth and Mission by the scruff of their battle armor and dragged them away from the creature's reach.

Belatedly, both Mission and Carth pulled their weapons and fired wildly at the hulking monstrosity, even as Zaalbar pulled them to safety. Their blaster bolts illuminated the beast for mere seconds before blinking out again.

With a savage growl, Zaalbar fired on the feral creature with his bow caster, advancing carefully down the far side of the ramp toward the doorway. When he got to the doors, Zaalbar let out a mighty growl as he attempted to slide the doors closed.

Mission scrambled to her feet and began firing her rifle at the shadowy behemoth, her blaster bolts barely even singeing its toughened skin.

Carth cursed his inability to see in the dark as he flicked on his personal light device and blasted his way down the ramp to help Zaalbar, careful to avoid Mission's line of fire. He winced at the ear-piercing shriek the doors made as they were forced closed.

Both he and Zaalbar jumped back when the ravenous beast slammed its massive body up against the doors again and again, making them groan.

Heart still hammering in his chest, Carth pointed at the mangled door and demanded, "What the hell was that?"

Zaalbar growled a response to Carth, who shook his head in the negative and replied, "Yeah, I hear ya, big guy, but I sure don't understand a word you're saying."

Aggravated by his own inability to converse with the human, Zaalbar turned to his wide-eyed friend and urged, _"Mission, he can not see it without the Vulkars turning the lights on in the pit. You must tell him."_

Their attention was jarred back to the creature on the other side of the door as it clawed and loudly snorted its displeasure at a lost meal.

Gripping her rifle so tight her knuckles turned a pale blue green, Mission eyes shifted around in the dark, looking at anything but Carth.

Zaalbar reached out and nudged his young friend's shoulder and nodded encouragingly.

She took in a deep breath and let the words flow out with her breath. "It's a rancor."

The beast slammed into the door once more, making Carth stagger another step or two back. His blasters came up, ready for the beast to come barreling through. They all waited in silence, Carth with his blasters and Zaalbar with his bowcaster. Mission was the first to relax her grip on her rifle when it became apparent that the rancor had given up coming through the door. Only the gusts of air it exhaled gave away its position as it waited for them to try coming through again.

After a moment or two of silence, he turned to Mission and hissed in disbelief, "Are you insane? Why didn't you just tell us it was a rancor? That thing nearly took our heads off!"

Zaalbar growled low at Carth, signaling the human for quiet. Unsurprisingly, he was ignored. Despite his attempt to keep the two of them calm, the argument had begun in earnest. Zaalbar shook his head tiredly and then frowned. He scanned the darkness up the ramp and then back down to the blaster doors. With a soft growl, he began searching the corridor, even as Mission and Carth continued to argue.

"Gadon and Zaerdra didn't believe me when I told them!" Mission cried. "If I hadn't shown you, you wouldn't have believed me, either!"

"It's been awhile since me and Big Z last saw it. Normally, it's sleeping. Both times we saw it the Vulkars had the lights on." Looking back at the door, Mission audibly gulped. "I've never seen it so crazy. I don't think Brejik and his Vulkars have fed it in awhile…"

"For crying out loud, Mission!" Carth exclaimed. "Why didn't you just say so?"

"Nobody takes me seriously!" the teen bellowed. "It's always kid this, too young that, play with your dolls, little girl…"

Mission's eyes welled up. Tears spilled over and burned down her face in hot tracks. She swiped at them angrily and looked away. "I don't own any dolls and I ain't no kid! I just wanted you to see that. I'm not lookin' to be taken care of. I'm here to pull my own weight!"

Carth's heart twisted in his chest. The first thought that came to mind was, "_I'm such a bastard._ _I made her cry!"_ The second thought was, "_Now, how do I make her stop?"_

Setting a hand on her shoulder, he murmured quietly, "Mission, I would have believed you if you said so."

Jerking away from him, she readjusted her rifle to a more comfortable position over her shoulder and fidgeted, ducking her head so that he couldn't see her cry. "No, you wouldn't have."

"Yes, I would have," Carth insisted. "You know what? If it wasn't absolutely imperative that I find my…fellow soldier, I would never have come down here. Ever! But I had to and I needed the best guide possible—and that's you and Zaalbar. No one knows the Lower and Under City like the two of you. Believe it or not, I do respect you. As a matter of fact, so does Gadon. Otherwise, would he have recommended you for this job?"

Mission slowly turned to him and searched his face, not quite believing what she'd heard. "Really? He did?"

Carth smiled at her and nodded. "Yes, he did."

"So you don't really think I'm a kid?"

"Of course you're a kid."

"Hey!" Mission exclaimed with a frown.

"You're the bravest, most fearless kid I know. Braver than some soldiers I've served with."

His comment made the little Twi'lek's eyes widen. "Braver than some other old geezers you know? Really?"

"I'm not that old!"

Mission laughed, the sound softly echoing off the walls of the corridor. "I'm just messin' with ya, Carth." With a small smile, she gave him a playful tap on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, you know. For callin' you a geezer. I mean, you're old, but not _that_ old."

Carth narrowed his eyes at her comment and deadpanned, "Yeah, thanks."

Mission turned to Zaalbar with a cheeky grin that faltered as she noted her friend's distress. He searched up one side of the catwalk and was making his way back down when she asked, "What's wrong, big guy?"

All traces of her grin faded as he explained his dilemma. A little panicked, she turned to back to Carth. "We, uh, have a problem…"

"It's not another rancor, is it?" Carth asked suspiciously. "Because we just agreed to be up-front with one another."

"Uh, no, Carth. There's just the one rancor," Mission replied. A silent 'duh' attaching itself to the sentence with the irritated look she flashed him.

Carth shook his head, not quite understanding what had the Wookiee all wound up. "Then what's the problem?"

"Um, Carth?" Mission began tentatively. "Where's Rhyska?"

There was an awkward silence as the pilot and the thief looked at one another. Wordlessly, Carth began calling out for their missing cohort.

An excited string of growls and trills emanated from Zaalbar, who was leaning over the far end of the catwalk railings by the blast doors.

Zaalbar jabbed a hairy finger downwards, directing Carth and Mission to take a look. The pair leaned over and found their fourth member hanging upside down from the catwalk support beams.

"That was touching, really," drawled an upside-down Rhyska. "A genuine moment between comrades. I was gonna say something, but I didn't want to interrupt. Now that you're all finished, do you guys think you could haul me back up before I vomit?"

Carth flashed her a look that was part relief, but mostly amusement. "You all right there, Knickers? You look a little red in the face."

"That would be the blood pooling into my head, you lobotomized Gamorrean!" Rhyska hissed.

Mission smartly muffled her laughter. Carth, on the other hand, laughed out right. "Now, now…A little patience will go a long way, Rocket. We'll get you out of there. Just give us a minute."

"Step on it!"

---------------

Rhyska rolled her eyes and fought back another bought of nausea. She was dizzy from hanging upside down and light-headed from the blood rush. Not to mention utterly grossed out by the sewage and rotting parts floating in the muck. _In a minute_ was the _wrong_ answer.

When she'd first tumbled over the edge, she'd nearly fallen into the sewer, but luckily she snagged a hold of a bar on her way down. Which didn't mean she'd gotten away unscathed. A stinging pain in her upper back led her to believe she'd scraped herself pretty good on the way down. Worse, her left boot took a dip in the sludge before she'd finally managed to heave her legs up and over to grapple the beam, allowing her poor abused arms a rest. Unfortunately, that still put her head low enough that her pony tail took a dip in the muck. It was a no-win situation…

She was busy trying to wrap her smelly hair into a loose knot when she'd first spotted the arm.

It looked to be human. Five fingers and all the usual joints partially encased in what looked to be some kind of tech body armor. There were a lot of little pockets on the upper arm. "_Filled with goodies, no doubt," _Rhyska mused.

The strangest thing about the arm was that besides being stuck in a delicate balance between the wall and the catwalk, the arm had a data pad in its grip.

While Carth and Mission worked through their bittersweet, cavity-inducing moment, Rhyska carefully maneuvered her way to the arm, thinking, "_What tragic new lows will I take on next?"_ even as she swung her body forward to make a grab for it.

Rhyska frowned at the feel of the arm. It was stiff, really stiff_. "Still in the first stages of rigor mortis. A recent death," _she decided_. "Maybe the rancor got the rest of you, eh?"_

Upon closer inspection, she noted an elaborate tattoo hidden beneath the datapad that seemed to start at the palm and wind its way up the wrist, disappearing beneath the body armor. Rhyska nodded approvingly. _"Hmmm, nice tat!"_

It took some effort, but she finally managed to pry the datapad out of the previous owner's death grip. That was right about the time that Zaalbar finally spotted her.

"_You okay?"_ he growled.

Quickly tucking away the datapad into her body armor for later reading, Rhyska replied, "Yep, still alive."

As expected, Carth decided to play cute when she asked them to haul her up.

When he finally got around to telling her to give him a hand, Rhyska obliged. She gave him the dead guy's. The sound of his startled yelp bouncing off the walls of the corridor made her smile with evil glee. It was almost worth falling back down into the sewer...almost.

Rhyska snickered as he continued cursing at her. Zaalbar grabbed her by the scruff of her armor and pulled her up onto the catwalk. He gave her a wary, but reproachful look for her antics. He was not amused and apparently, neither was Mission.

"What is it with you and dead people?" Carth demanded. "To get off of Taris I'll deal with your thieving, bite my tongue when you loot the dead, but I draw the line at body parts!"

Jabbing a finger at the dismembered arm on the catwalk, Carth barked, "What is that even about?"

Tilting her head, she pointed out archly. "You said to give you a hand, Flyboy. Next time, be more specific."

Mission crouched down to where Carth had dropped the arm. Tracing the tattoo on the palm she murmured softly, "This tattoo…Z, its Bender!"

Rhyska winced at the younger girl's exclamation. Carth shot her a _"See! I told you so!"_ look.

Clearing her throat, Rhyska made an awkward attempt to break the silence. "So, you—uh, know the owner of the arm?"

"Yeah, he's a—he was a Bek." Mission corrected quietly. "I guess the rancor got him."

"What was he doing down here?" Carth asked Zaalbar.

Zaalbar eyed him and replied, _"How should I know? No one comes down here but me and Mission."_

Unfortunately, all Carth heard was a series of growls, barks, and trills. Scratching his head, Carth deadpanned, "I have no idea what you just said."

"_Then quit asking me!"_ snarled Zaalbar.

Carth jumped back and stared at the Wookiee, warily. "Easy, tough guy!"

Rhyska pulled out the datapad and skimmed through the contents. "Hmmm…looks like Gadon and Zaerdra believed you when you said the Vulkars had a pet rancor guarding their back door. They sent your friend here to blow it up."

"Blow it up?! A rancor?" Carth asked incredulously.

"Well, you saw the thing and I heard you blasting it. You tell me how effective that was."

Carth conceded to that point, but he pressed on anyway. "Are you sure that thing says to blow it up?"

Rhyska arched a brow and tossed him the datapad. "I am capable of reading, you know. It says to get the big fella to digest some pressure triggered grenades. The rancor bites down, the grenades go kaboom, and the rancor dies. The end."

Nodding as he skimmed the contents of the datapad, Carth griped, "Well, I never know with you. Your answer to everything is, _'Hey, let's blow it up!'_"

"Not true," Rhyska argued as she removed three small vials of smelly- rancor fine cuisine. "Sometimes my answer is run away."

Carth shook his head. "For this to work you'd need a distraction. That thing already knows we're here. Even with your stealth unit, it's just waiting for us."

Zaalbar growled softly. "_Someone comes_!"

"What did he just say?" Carth asked.

Mission gestured for silence and whispered, "Listen…"

---------------

Light flooded the rancor pit and the four of them backed away from the door, their weapons at the ready.

A nasal voice cursed loudly, "Blasted rancor jacked up the sewer exit again! We gotta keep this thing fed regular. I ain't lugging another ton of durasteel through the flaming Under City and sewer system just to keep Brejik's pet rancor from running off!"

"Not a problem, Raike. Here's something for the beastie to chew on," a second voice answered. "Go on! Get in there! You think you can just walk through Vulkar turf and not get pinched? Think again!"

On the other side of the door, two panicked men were thrown into the rancor's lair. The tremors reverberated off the durasteel doors and made the catwalk hum as the rancor made a made dash for its meal. There was the unmistakable sound of terrified people scrambling for their lives, followed by the crunching of bones, and the rending of flesh.

In the background, from the safety of their elevator, the Vulkar thugs took bets on which victim would last the longest before eventually tiring of the game and returning back to the upper levels of their compound. A still voracious rancor clawed at the elevator door, snarling in annoyance and not in the least bit satiated.

Carth and Zaalbar moved into action, attempting to quietly slide the broken door open just enough for Rhyska to enter the pit.

Leaving her rucksack and vibroblade behind, she activated her stealth unit and squeezed through the opening. Carefully, she made her way to the rancor's nest while it continued to snarl at the Vulkar's elevator doors.

Inching around the outer rim of the nest, she stared down at the recent and partially digested remains of a Sith soldier who had clearly pissed off the wrong gang members.

Despite missing an appendage or two and pretty much all the soft flesh below the rib cage, Rhyska could still tell that the Sith had been stripped of his bronze armor and helmet and sent into the rancor's den wearing nothing but an ineffectual bodysuit.

A quick scan of the room revealed no sign that the nameless man had been provided with even a rudimentary weapon. He wasn't even given a fighting chance. _"Not very sporting…"_

Her eyes slid to his colorless and blood-spattered face. The terrified green of his eyes looked stark against the blood and the pale of his skin. Rhyska looked away, unable to withstand his unseeing gaze. She was grateful that her stealth unit prevented her companions from seeing her. "_Might think I'm going soft or something…_"

Fishing out the vial and the pressure grenades, she mused, "_Capricious Fate sure dealt you a seriously rotten hand of pazaak cards. Eaten by a rancor and then the added insult of being used as bait and then detonated…talk about crappy karma!_ _Here's to hoping that the Divine cuts you some slack the second time around."_

Rhyska sent the quick prayer to whatever higher power happened to be watching at that very moment before gently brushing the man's eyes closed. _"You don't need to see this…"_

Activating the pressure grenades, she placed them into the open maw that was his midsection and doused the grenades with the vial's contents.

As quickly as her stealth unit allowed, she backed away from the body, noting that the rancor was already giving the air an experimental sniff.

Rhyska felt a foreboding chill run up her spine as her back came up against the wall. She began to edge herself along the wall trying to make her way back to the safety of the durasteel doors.

Oblivious to the deception, the rancor hurried back to its nest and sussed out his last meal—_exploding Sith a la mode_. The sewer behemoth took a solid bite out of the man. Gobs of flesh and still warm blood dribbled down its mouth. It leaned in for another bite when it suddenly reared back and howled.

At the beast's cry, Rhyska dropped down to the ground and curled up into a ball hoping that she had put enough distance between the two of them to survive the explosion.

At that very moment, the pressure grenades detonated with a blinding flash of light. Chunks of rancor went flying.

For a moment, Rhyska thought she had gotten far enough away, but then a starburst of pain exploded against her side and then again at her temple, causing her vision to blur—and then the world to go black.

* * *

**Author Note:** As always, many thanks to my awesome betas. To the readers, feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing.


	19. Belly of the Beast

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kotor. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**Belly of the Beast

* * *

**Rhyska heard them before she actually saw them. In fact, she could feel them crowd around her, staring.

"Is she okay?"

"Define okay..."

"Alive, Carth! Is she alive?"

"Yeah, she's alive. I don't know how. I've seen men twice her size get taken out by land mines and other high velocity projectiles, but I can't say I've ever seen anyone get taken out by an exploding rancor. That one's new."

"Ewwww! Gross!" Mission exclaimed. "She's got rancor bits all over her!"

Carth leaned over and took a closer look at the floppy strip of soft tissue Mission precariously held between her forefinger and thumb. After a moment's deliberation, he stated, "Um, I don't think that's part of the rancor…"

Mission made some gagging noises and flung the fleshy bit away, croaking, "How are we gonna get her cleaned up, Carth? She smells like the inside of a rancor!"

"Yeah, she does," Carth muttered distastefully. "I'll admit, smelling like a rancor's innards is definitely a problem, however, I'm more concerned about possible concussions. I think I've lost count of the number of times Nevar's been smacked upside the head," Carth confided. Belatedly he added, "Though it could explain why she is the way she is…"

"I heard that," Rhyska grunted. Her eyes fluttered open. The lights above were so bright, that she groaned and closed her eyes. Then she felt a shadow loom over her.

A pair of pitch black eyes inside a hairy face looked down on her. Zaalbar leaned over and gave her hair a sniff. _"You smell worse than you look."_

"You don't say?"

"_You gave Mission and your friend a scare," _Zaalbar chastised softly._ "Try not to do that again."  
_

"Worried about your life debt, Z? Don't worry. I don't plan on dying anytime soon."

Zaalbar snorted and stood up, the shade he provided replaced by blinding lights once more. Rhyska's eyes rolled back up into her head and she waited patiently until the light didn't hurt quite so much.

"Hey, you okay?" Carth asked as Mission helped her sit up.

Everything was just a little bit fuzzy and for some reason, she was seeing double. _Oh, crap! _With a groan, she asked, "Please tell me I hit my head or something. I don't know if I can stand listening to two pairs of Flyboys and Squirts argue thirty six hours a day, every day of the week."

Mission stood abruptly and let Rhyska fall back to the ground with a thud and a strangled, "Ouch!"

"Yeah, she's fine," the little Twi'lek replied flatly. "Me and Zaalbar are gonna see if there's anything salvageable in the room." Without another word, their young guide stomped off, trailed by her hairy friend.

"Apparently, I'm not the only one who can stuff their foot inside their mouth," Carth said with a wry smile.

With a groan, Rhyska hissed, "Shut your pie hole and tell me how bad it is!"

"Well, first of all, you were hit upside the head—again. Just let me give you a shot of kolto and that should take care of that, but I need you to sit up. I think you were nailed with a piece of shrapnel in the shoulder. Most of this yuck is rancor, but I'm pretty sure that's a tear in your body armor, so _that_ blood is all you."

"Perfect…" Rhyska muttered as Carth helped her into a sitting position.

Without waiting to be asked, Rhyska shrugged out of her vest, biting back a few curses. Pain shot through her with every movement. "Yep, something got me," she hissed.

Unzipping her body armor, Rhyska gingerly tried to peel the bodysuit down the injured shoulder, but only managed to aggravate the wound a little more.

Even with the one shot of kolto working on the smaller cuts and bruises, jostling the fragment that pierced her shoulder was enough to make her eyes water and her teeth grind.

"Carth, can you help me get this suit off my shoulder?"

A few steps behind her, Carth stood unmoving. A look of consternation flashed across his face as he watched her struggle with her suit.

Her ears were still ringing from the explosion and her head was pounding. Wincing with each movement, Rhyska cursed inwardly. _Stupid Tarsians! Flaming Vulkars! Brejik… What kind of delusional lunatic would keep a rancor for a pet anyway? When I get up that elevator, those cheating, back-stabbing, no-good bunch of punks are gonna be sorry!_

Once started, her inner tirade continued. Next, she cursed the Fates for landing her in this situation in the first place. Then she cursed her luck, or rather bad luck, because Rhyska was fairly certain that running into rancors sure as heck didn't fall under the category of _happy accidents_.

Though she was mildly irritated with the Beks for asking her to steal back their engine, Rhyska couldn't quite bring herself to curse them outright. They were gangsters—why do all the hard work when you could send a couple of desperate idiots to do it for you? She could hardly fault them for thinking like that.

Releasing an irritated sigh, Rhyska muttered under her breath, "Didn't expect the job to be easy—just rancor free." Her hands curled up into tight fists and mentally, she promised herself, _Gadon is so making that bartender at Javyar's fork over my cut from those dancing holovids!_

Then she went on to curse the Sith for blowing up the Spire, then for stranding her on this crap-hole of a planet and lastly, forcing her to jump through hoops to find a missing Jedi. Not to mention making her risk life, limb, and possible mutation by traveling through Rakghoul infested territory. To top it all off, she very nearly ended up a as rancor chew toy.

Her irritation was so great all of her muscles tightened and convulsed painfully. Letting out a hiss, Rhyska swore to herself, _Before I leave this rock, those copper-suited fat-heads will curse the day I stride into their base!_

Finally, she got down to the last two names on her list of people to blame for the pain she was currently experiencing. _Bastila the Jedi Wonder and Carth._ Rhyska's eyes narrowed and her face tightened as another lance of pain went through her. _Yes, definitely Carth._

She was just about to plan in detail how she would dispense his comeuppance when she finally realized that one, he wasn't helping her and two, he was just standing there. _What is with him? Stars, I hope he's not a prude. My shoulder is killing me!_

After another minute of irritating silence, Rhyska called out sharply, "Hey, Flyboy! You awake back there? Are you gonna help me or not?"

---------------

When Carth watched Rhyska try to peel her suit off her shoulder, he was vividly reminded of her dancing at Javyar's. Despite the fact she smelled and looked horrific, in his mind, all he could see were graceful limbs and a supple form dancing to music in a smoky bar.

Jarred back into reality by her caustic outburst, he grasped for words. "Sorry, I was just—uh, thinking of the best way to get suit down—I, uh mean, off your shoulder. You know, without doing more damage. I just—give me a minute, okay?"

Rhyska rolled her eyes. "Sooner rather than later, please."

Carth was alternately relieved that she couldn't see him and mortified that he had been caught in the middle of _that_ particular reverie. _Good grief!_ Carth chastised himself. _If I'm starting to fantasize about a rancor-covered, klepto-maniacal corpse-robber then I really need to get off this planet…_

Before carefully moving Rhyska's suite a little further down, Carth glanced to where Mission and Zaalbar stood, poking at the dead rancor. Both seemed pretty engrossed in checking out the beast's steaming remains. Hopefully, they'd stay occupied until he fixed Rhyska's shoulder. Carth didn't need a really good look to know that this was going to hurt.

---------------

"Can you believe her?" Mission demanded as she turned a piece of shrapnel over with the tip of her rifle. "There I am all worried and she goes and says a thing like that."

Squatted over a pile of old bones, Zaalbar shrugged as he sifted through the remains._ "Well, you and Carth do fight a lot."_

"Yeah, but we're cool now!"

"_You weren't earlier,"_ Zaalbar pointed out.

Mission rolled her eyes and sighed. Spinning lightly on her heel, head tails swinging with the motion, she walked over to the dead rancor.

Zaalbar followed his friend and stood beside her as she gazed at the still smoking remains of the creature.

"_There's nothing but junk here,"_ the Wookiee determined as he looked around the rancor pit. _"The beast destroyed most everything in its hunger and frenzy. I doubt there's anything…" _his words trailed off as something caught his eye.

"_Over there."_ Zaalbar pointed to a corner by the sewer doors. Glints of dark silver twinkling up from beneath some muck and bones beckoned to him. Crouching down, Zaalbar brushed the debris away to uncover a few of Bender's most precious tools.

Crouching beside him, Mission picked up a heavy wrench. Her eyes glittered and her lips were drawn tight.

Zaalbar carefully collected up the rest of Bender's tools and placed them in the toolkit he always carried with him, swapping them out with some of his lesser grade tools.

Despite always being busy working on the Bek's swoop bikes or whatever projects Gadon set him on, the lanky human with the strange, curly red hair and freckled face always treated Zaalbar fairly.

He was one of the few humans the Wookiee had liked straight away. It certainly didn't hurt that they both enjoyed taking things apart and reassembling them again. In fact, whenever salvage was hard to come by, it was Bender who would give both him and Mission easy jobs so they could get by.

With a silent vow, Zaalbar promised to take good care of Bender's tools. Turning to Mission rumbled, _"By completing his mission, we lay him to rest. Bender leaves this world and the Beks with honor." _

Mission gave Zaalbar a curt nod and walked off.

Following her back to the rancor, Zaalbar stopped just short of it. The way his little friend stared at the creature, he was fairly certain he knew where this was going.

"Stoopa, mutant chuba!" Mission murmured. Suddenly, her foot darted out and kicked the fallen sewer beast. Unsurprisingly, it was followed by a painful yelp. "Fierfek! Poodoo-smellin' rancor feels like it's made of rock or somethin'."

Gripping the wrench tightly in her hand, Mission landed a solid blow on the rancor with a dull thwack. "That's what you get for eating my friends!"

Zaalbar curled his lip and growled softly in agreement. Then the pungent smell of slightly cooked rancor filled his senses. Leaning over, he breathed in deeply. _"Hey, Mission? You think it's edible?"_

Mission turned to the Wookiee, mouth agape and eyes wide. Her mouth opened and closed and then opened again. It took a moment before she finally managed to get out, "Are you crazy, you moon-brained Wookiee? It's a rancor—that lived in a sewer. That's just gross!"

Slapping the rancor with the wrench for further emphasis, she added, "Kika only knows what this thing's been eating. Probably Rakghouls. Probably why it's all crazy. Crazy insane from eating Rakghouls! You can't seriously tell me you want to take a bite out of this thing."

"_I suppose,"_ Zaalbar considered her words, weighing the odds of turning into a three-eyed Wookiee against the constant rumble in his stomach. _"It's just I'm really hungry! Those nutria bars and hydra shots just didn't fill me up at all and the pigmen didn't feed me, either."_

"Do you always have to think with your stomach?"

"_I can't help it that Wookiees have heartier appetites than most species."_

"Well, you can't eat that," Mission admonished.

At that very moment, his stomach chose to voice its annoyance at being denied food. Zaalbar grumbled and rubbed his empty belly.

"It's like, bottomless…" Mission muttered, staring at his midsection. Suddenly, his diminutive friend waved the wrench around excitedly and exclaimed, "I've got it! Just hold on till we get upstairs. We'll raid the Vulkars' kitchen. I'm sure they got something edible."

The thought of real food perked the Wookiee up. Even his stomach stopped grumbling. _"I hope they have something good. You think they've got any meat?"_

"Even the Vulkar's have gotta eat. We'll get you fed, no worries," Mission promised. "Now if we could only get those two to hurry up…"

Whatever Mission had planned to say afterwards was forgotten as Rhyska's pain-filled shriek echoed in the pit.

--------------

Carth frowned at the fragment, pressing the inflamed skin around it gently. "Huh...it's either a bone fragment or a really big tooth. Hard to say which..."

"Who cares what it is," Rhyska growled at him. "Do us both a favor and yank it out."

Releasing an exasperated sigh, Carth ground out, "I was trying to be a gentleman."

"You wanna be a gentleman? Yank the sucker out so we can get on with this little retrieval mission."

Carth gazed at her back with narrowed eyes. "If you say so…"

Suddenly, Rhyska felt an excruciating pain blossom from the nerve endings in her shoulder all throughout her body. The edge of her fuzzy vision went white and all the willpower in the world wasn't enough to stop the cry that escaped her lips.

-----

When Rhyska came to, she found herself sprawled on her stomach with her arms prone against her sides. Her face lay against a scrap of cloth that smelled faintly of oil and grease_. "A mechanic's rag? Are we in the Vulkar base already?"_ Rhyska wondered dazedly.

Her senses and thoughts were scrambled and she felt as though she couldn't quite pull herself together. So instead she listened to the voices above her…

"Jeez, Carth! She was spurting blood like a geyser! Are you sure she's gonna be okay?" Mission asked.

"She'll live. She won't feel so hot when she comes around, but she'll live."

"I've got it all clean around the wound, Carth," Mission announced. "Check it out, Big Z. You can actually see her muscles knit back together!"

"_Fascinating! We have our own herbs and medicines on Kashyyyk, but nothing quite like kolto. I've never seen a body heal so quickly."_

"What did he just say?"

Without missing a beat, Mission translated, "He said it's cool."

"Oh, yeah. kolto is pretty amazing. I mean, everyone takes it for granted, but make no mistake, the war could go in a completely different direction without this miracle drug."

"How much of that stuff did you give her?" the teen asked.

"Plenty," Carth replied sheepishly. "Good thing she _acquired_ so many medpacks. It might not look pretty, but she should feel a lot better in about forty-five minutes and the kolto should speed up her body's ability to produce blood."

Mission nodded approvingly. "You're pretty good at this."

"I've patched up a fellow soldier a time or two," Carth admitted.

"I'm patched up?" Rhyska muttered, lifting her head up a bit.

"You're awake!" Mission exclaimed with relief. The younger girl flattened herself to the ground so that she could look the older woman in the eyes.

"That sliver Carth yanked pulled out of you was a bit longer than he first guessed, so you sort of passed out."

"For how long?"

"About ten minutes, give or take. Lucky for you I swiped some clean bandages from the outcast healer. So at least your wound isn't infected."

"You got an antidote shot anyway," Carth interjected somewhere above her.

Rhyska felt his hands trailed against the skin of her back, right at the edge of her wound. The touches were careful, warm, and strangely gentle.

_Hmph, probably feels guilty 'cause I'm all messed up. Ha! That won't save you, Captain Tight-pants!_ Rhyska was certain that those were the words that were going to pop out of her mouth. Instead, she heard herself say"My head feels all funny and fluffy-like."

"Well, you are kind of heavily medicated," Carth admitted with a slight smile.

Rhyska watched the Twi'lek turn to Carth and ask, "How heavily medicated?"

_Just wait till we get to the Upper City. I'll sick ole' Kadir on you and then you'll be sorry, Flyboy_! was what Rhyska wanted to say. Instead, she said, "Mission, you're a really pretty shade of blue-green. Kind of wish I was blue-green, or maybe red. Nope—orange. I'll be orange like Carth's flight jacket…"

Mission's eyes grew wide as she turned her attention back to Rhyska. "Sweet Kika!" Behind her, Zaalbar began to chuckle. Pointing to the injured thief, Mission exclaimed, "She's high!"

"Yeah, she is." Carth nodded, unable to stop the smile that worked its way across his face. "Mixing antidote shots with kolto shots makes people go a little wonky. In about ten minutes the kolto is going to neutralize the antidote serum, but that's okay. It should have done its job by then."

Carth shook his head and chuckled. "I've heard some pretty strange things from guys I've treated on the battlefield. Although, this is the first time anyone's ever confessed wanting to be the color of my jacket."

As he swept aside hair from the base of Rhyska's spine, Carth uncovered a raised patch of silvery scars. "That's a nasty piece of work," he murmured. "Bad location, too. I wonder what happened there."

His fingers traced over the scars and gently followed them two inches up into Rhyska's hairline.

_Oh, and that weird old fart in the Bek base and maybe I'll throw Rukil at you for good measure, too!_ was how she planned on finishing her tirade, but to her utter mortification she heard herself say, "Mmm, for an idiot-Flyboy, you're pretty good with your hands…"

Turning a fierce shade of red, Carth cleared his throat and carefully removed his fingers from Rhyska's hair. He looked over at the teenaged Twi'lek and her Wookiee protector and scowled. The Wookiee convulsed before letting out a series of barks that Carth could only assume was laughter.

Mission, on the other hand, grinned widely at him, which could only mean trouble. "Hear that, Carth? She said you're pretty good with your hands!"

Still red in the face, Carth stood up and muttered, "It's moments like these that I could wish for a few Vulkars, or some Rakghouls, or even some Sith…"

As he walked away, he threw over his shoulder, "Keep her awake, Mission. Don't let her fall asleep."

Mission looked sideways at Zaalbar and said, "I think we scared him off."

"_He is an easy target,"_ replied the amused Wookiee.

Mission looked back at Rhyska and reached over to brush the woman's errant bangs away from her face. "Will she really be okay, Big Z?"

"_Humans are tougher than they look,"_ Zaalbar stated. _"I suspect that she is tougher than most." _

"You hear that, Rhys? Big Z thinks you're tough for a human."

"I wanna rip people's arms off…" Rhyska mumbled dazedly, "like a Wookiee. Only I wanna be orange…"

Mission fell over laughing and began chattering non-stop to the delirious woman.

Gazing at the Rhyska, Zaalbar decided that at the very least, he would never be bored while she still lived.

---------------

A short while later, when the last of the antidote serum had been negated by the kolto, Rhyska groaned in embarrassment and at the feel of newly regenerated shoulder tissues. "What in the blazes was I saying earlier?" she asked out loud.

"That I've got great hands and you want to be an orange Wookiee," answered a familiar and highly amused voice.

Rhyska flushed a deep red and sputtered, "I did not!"

"You sure did," Carth confirmed wryly.

"Well, whatever," Rhyska muttered, trying her best to avoid direct eye contact.

She made a shaky attempt to stand, but a heavy hand settled on her shoulder and prevented her from getting up.

Carth shook his head and said, "I don't know that you're ready for standing just yet."

Resisting the urge to say something snide, Rhyska closed her eyes and took in a deep, slow breath. Mentally, she took stock of how everything felt. Stretching her legs out in front of her she released her breath as she slowly leaned forward_. Muscles responding. Check._

The dull ache of battered muscles, joints, and regenerated tissue assaulted her as she rose back up and began to roll her shoulders. _Nerve endings firing away and telling me to 'Stop right now!' Check._

Carth watched her as she stretched and silently cursed, _Blast, she's not going to wait for the kolto to finish its job. _Thinking fast, he broached a subject he was curious about, hoping it would be enough to keep her still for awhile longer"Hey, Nevar? Do you mind if I ask where you got that scar? The one on the back of your neck."

Rhyska opened her eyes and said in mock-outrage, "So you really were feeling me up! And while I was inebriated, too." Tsking a red faced Carth, she added, "Didn't I hear you make some crack earlier about being a gentleman?"

"I did not feel you up!" Carth hissed in aggravation.

"Of course you didn't. You're a gentleman," Rhyska teased.

Shaking his head tiredly, Carth began to question his strategy. At this rate, he was going to strangle her before she healed. "Sorry I asked. If you didn't want to answer, you should have just said so."

Rhyska tried to banish the amusement from her face, but failed miserably. _He really is such an easy mark, but this is the third time he's patched me up…_ "It's a little souvenir I picked up from before the Republic Fleet put me to work."

Carth frowned in confusion. "I don't understand. Kolto heals up most scars."

"It sure does—if they leave you marinating in the tank long enough. My scar is a cosmetic issue, but it wasn't like I had any life threatening injuries, so I was shipped off. After that, it was just regular kolto injections, which isn't quite as potent as being submersed in the stuff. Repairing cosmetic damage isn't really high on their list of things to do, especially for smugglers."

"What kind of injuries did you have?"

Rhyska pondered his question for several moments before answering, "I don't really remember. I only know what the doctors told me."

Carth frowned and hunkered down beside Rhyska. He remembered skimming over the highlights in her personnel file, but he hadn't bothered checking her medical records.

A shiver went down Carth's spine as he realized, _My last ditch effort at saving Bastila Shan depends on a half-baked klepto amnesiac. This is not good… _Shaking his head clear of all negative thoughts, Carth focused his attention back on the injured woman.

"I woke up in a fleet Med-Center on Coruscant. Apparently, I'd been in a kolto tank for a few days. I gathered that whatever had happened was pretty bad."

"So you have no memory of what happened to you?"

"I get flashes of feelings, sensations. My memories of the last year are—fractured. They don't really fit together."

"So you've got some sort of amnesia?"

"I guess. I do remember a little bit about that day. I was standing in front of an exploding console—"

"You seem to stand in front of a lot of things that explode," Carth interjected.

Rhyska snorted and glanced over at him. "You noticed that too, huh?"

"Yeah," Carth said dryly. "Then what happened?"

"I was thrown across the room, that's what happened!" Rhyska exclaimed, "That's how I got the scar. I caught some shrapnel."

"Another thing that's seems to happen around you…"

"Do you want to know what happened to me or not?"

"Of course, I want to know. It's just—you seem to sustain an alarming number of head injuries and wind up in situations where you're nearly blown up." Carth eyes narrowed and he stated archly, "Makes me nervous just sitting next to you…"

Rhyska glared at him. "You're a real bantha-turd. You know that, right?"

Carth shrank a bit under her glare and decided to steer the conversation back on track. "Did you suffer any nerve damage? I mean, that scar is practically next door to your spine."

The thief shrugged out of habit and then winced. "If I did, it was something they repaired. I know I landed funny because the med techs said I came in with a broken wrist, some cracked ribs, and a few bruised organs."

Carth grimaced in sympathy. _I should probably say something reassuring, something supportive. Something better than 'Wow, that sucks!_' Carth pondered quietly for a few moments, before silently admitting, _Yeah, I got nothing._

Out of the blue, Rhyska added, "I must have landed near a conduit that had caught fire, because I came in with some nasty burns. I think the medical staff was pretty impressed with me. Apparently, I beat the odds. One of the techs told me I should have been born a Corellian."

Carth looked at her aghast.

"What?"

"Exploded, flung across the room, and burned?"

"Yeah," she replied, the picture of nonchalance. "Pretty crazy, huh?"

Carth's face screwed up into a mural of disgust and horror at her shocking revelation. "For crying out loud, Nevar! Now I _know_ I don't want to sit next to you!"

Rhyska waved him off. "Whatever, Flyboy."

Standing up, Carth muttered, "After that whole long list of injuries, it's amazing you survived at all."

"Well, technically, I didn't," Rhyska informed him pointedly.

"What?"

"Before being retrieved, I had to be resuscitated. Officially, I was dead for about a minute and some change." Rubbing the scar at the back of her neck, she confided, "I don't mind the scar. You know why? Because I can hardly remember the faces or names of my crew. The doctors said my memory loss was temporary, but a year has passed and still nothing. It's like they're gone."

"How about your memories from before? Like when you were on Deralia?"

"Those memories are kind of foggy, too. It's like I know it happened, but I've got no details to back it up. My memories after the fleet had me drafted are pretty clear. I can remember the weirdest details, about people especially."

Carth looked at her curiously. "That's a really weird kind of memory loss."

Rhyska shrugged. She could hardly deny that it didn't make much sense, but that was her situation. "Even if I could, I wouldn't get rid of this scar. They died and I didn't. It doesn't seem fair that they should be so easily erased."

Carth was speechless. He had assumed they had nothing in common, that they were as different as night and day, but this confession proved just how wrong he was. She was even more guarded than he was. Even as she acted like nothing could touch her, affect her, he knew better. They only difference was she was an expert at hiding her vulnerability.

As he looked at her, she seemed smaller somehow—fragile. Carth felt terrible. This was an impossible mission and the odds against them were staggering, but he had no choice. There was no one else. Still, he didn't want to run her into the ground. He had lost too many people as it was and she was just about the only friend he had on this planet. _Aw, jeez! Did I just label her as a friend? When did that happen?_ he berated himself.With a sigh, he suggested,"Maybe you should just take it easy. We could hole up here for awhile longer. Just until the kolto is done."

Rhyska hated the reasonable tone of his voice. She especially hated the way he was looking at her, like she was a breakable glass sculpture that could shatter at any moment. Now she knew exactly how Mission felt around Carth.

The vulnerability she had shown him vanished and was replaced with a steely determination. Her eyes darkened and she stated flatly, "It's done."

Seeing the worried look on his face, she chided, "Relax, Carth. It was my shoulder, not my legs, that took the hit." Sitting in a pile beside her was her rucksack, vest, and blade—minus her grenade pouch. "Besides, I was gonna get up eventually."

Looking around, Rhyska found her grenade pouch a short distance away. Mission held it open and watched as Zaalbar tinkered around with the innards of several gas grenades. Rhyska arched a brow in curiosity. Letting out a soft grunt, she turned her attention back to the situation at hand.

Snagging the vest, Rhyska slipped it on. The motions it took to do so made her eyes sting from the pain. _I'm no good to them like this, but I think I have something that will keep the pain at bay, even if only for a short while. _With a growl, she demanded, "Help me up, Flyboy."

Reluctantly, Carth pulled her up and kept her steady as she found her feet. "If this is about the bet…"

"This is about me—going up that elevator—and kicking Brejik's ass," Rhyska huffed. _Where are they?_ Rhyska mused as she fished though her vest and utility pouches. It wasn't until she got to the very last pocket that she found them. O_h, come to momma…_

Before Carth could say or do anything, Rhyska injected herself with a dose of the stimulant. The extra adrenaline raced through her veins, pushing away the pain and waking her whole body up.

"Nevar! What did you just do?" Carth demanded, worry lining his words.

"I gave myself an edge," Rhyska stated as she reached for her rucksack and vibroblade.

Grabbing a hold of her arm, Carth warned, "Too much of that stuff will turn you into a twitchin' mess!"

Rhyska narrowed her eyes at him. "I didn't take too much. I took just enough to finish this." Jerking her arm out of Carth's grip, she grabbed her rucksack and slid it over her good shoulder. With the same uninjured shoulder, she hefted up her vibroblade and slowly made her way to the elevator—not once looking at Carth.

Noting Rhyska's movement and her rather strained conversation with Carth, Zaalbar carefully replaced all the grenades back into the open pouch Mission held. Wordlessly, the two of them fell into step behind the irate thief.

Carth watched the three of them enter the elevator. The Wookiee trilled and let out a few soft rumbles before taking Rhyska's pack and slinging it onto his back. From where he stood, he heard her ask, "So, what were you doing with my grenades?"

While she and the Wookiee conversed, Mission waved him over impatiently. "Hurry up, Carth!"

Between the towering Wookiee and the teen, Rhyska stood waiting. She flashed him a crooked smile. "What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation? Let's go, Flyboy."

A week ago, if someone had said to him that he was going to storm a gangsters' compound with a mouthy, teenage Twi'lek, a surly Wookiee, and a barely-healed, corpse-robbing klepto, he would have told them to take a long walk out the air lock. But now, that's exactly what they had to do.

Carth shook his head. "Unbelievable…" he muttered under his breath. Pulling his blasters from their holsters, he walked towards them, stopping just inside the elevator. As the doors closed behind him, he said in a low determined voice, "Take us up."

**

* * *

Author Note:** As always, many thanks to my awesome betas. My chapters would suck considerably without their weeding and suggestions. To the readers, feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	20. Infiltration

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kotor. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**Infiltration

* * *

**When the elevator arrived at their destination, Rhyska and Mission stepped out with active stealth units. Carth and Zaalbar hung back in the elevator, ready for anything as the girls cleared the hallway.

Carth gripped his blasters tensely, ready for a firefight when he heard a muffled squeal and Mission exclaim, "No flaming way!"

Carth exchanged confused looks with the Wookiee and stepped out of the elevator in time to see Rhyska and Mission push and shove at each other in a mad effort to gain entry into a nearby room.

"Not fair!" Mission barked. "I found it!"

"I'm older and I smell worse," Rhyska exclaimed as she mercilessly dodged Mission's next shove. She forcibly nudged the younger girl aside so that she could squeeze into the room and slide the door shut. "I called dibs first!"

Mission kicked the door and hissed as a soft hum began to emanate from the enclosed room. "You suck!"

Carth watched them incredulously from where he stood, unable to believe what he was seeing. "Are you two insane?"

"No, I'm pissed!" Mission stated flatly, giving the door another kick. "Big deal! So what if the upper crust Tarisians can smell her from all the way down here. I found the sonic shower first, so I should have had first dibs!"

"Then you should have called it!" Rhyska cackled on the other side of the door.

"All this for a stupid shower?" Carth hissed. "Do I need to remind the both of you that we're trying to infiltrate an enemy stronghold?"

Zaalbar snorted as he kept his eyes on the hallway. _"We won't be doing much of anything if the three of you keep barking at each other."_

"What did he just say?" Carth asked suspiciously.

Mission rolled her eyes. "He said we ain't gonna infiltrate anything if they can smell or hear us a mile away. He also said you need to learn some Wookiee. I'm not a protocol droid, you know?"

"I am never leaving this room…" Rhyska announced from the shower.

Carth shook his head, utterly confounded. _"Why me?"_ He asked himself. _"What did I do to deserve this?"_

The door to the shower opened and Rhyska stepped out, barely able to get out of Mission's way as the Twi'lek took her turn.

Carth blinked as he watched Rhyska smooth her hair into a new knot.

"You gotta try it, Carth," Rhyska gushed. "I feel so much better with all that crap gone."

Carth ran a lingering gaze from the top of her head to the soles of her boots and was amazed. "You mean this shower took off all that gore?"

"_Her armor does look a little worse for wear, but it's rancor free and…" _Leaning in slightly, he sniffed the air around her curiously.

Rhyska bristled. "I know you didn't just sniff me…"

"Wow!" Carth exclaimed. "I can barely smell the sewer muck anymore. I mean, you smelled pretty damn awful earlier."

Rhyska scowled. She could feel a vein in her temple begin to throb. "You might smell a little funny if you had been standing next to an exploding sewer rancor…"

Moving past an irritated Rhyska, Carth called out to the Twi'lek in the sonic shower, "Don't take all day, Mission. We've got things to do and I want a turn in there."

"Whatever," the teen answered back.

Turning back to Rhyska, Carth suggested, "How about you go and scout ahead? See what we're gonna have to go up against."

"Aye-aye, Captain Tight-pants." Rhyska gave Carth a mock salute before ambling off.

Before she could go stealth, Carth jogged over to her and said in hushed tones, "I realize that no matter what we do, we're gonna see action, but do you think you could maybe scout us a way through the base with as little interaction with these Vulkars as possible?"

Rhyska gave him a non-committal shrug. "Yeah, sure. I'll look, but I can't guarantee anything."

"It's just, I know Mission handled herself with the Rakghouls, but I'm just not thrilled about taking someone so young into the middle of a fire-fight."

All the previous aggravation fled Rhyska's face and was replaced by a quizzical smile. _Will wonders never cease? That almost sounds like he trusts me._ Rhyska punched Carth lightly in the shoulder and said, "Sure thing, Flyboy. I'll see what I can do."

Before walking off, she caught Zaalbar's eye and nodded. He returned her nod and trilled, _"Try not to die. We are running out of medpacks."_

"Sure thing, big fella. I'll just add that to my _shopping list_," Rhyska teased as she turned on her stealth unit.

Her threat made Carth instantly regret his request. "Hey, just scout okay! Scout and then come back! No funny business! No---damn, she's gone, isn't she?"

Zaalbar shook his head at the Human and laughed.

---------------

A blast of light and eclectic techno filled a dimly lit corridor as two Vulkars stumbled out of the dining hall. The door slid closed behind them, buffering music and cutting off the faint aroma of cooked food. The two sentients shoved at each other and laughed loudly in the now silent hallway.

"Did you see the look on her face when Gristch gave her a pinch?" a pale Human with dark, greasy hair blurted out.

Beside him an Aqualish snorted and replied in his native tongue, _"Yeah, that was pretty good! I liked the last girl better. I mean, this one's all bruised up and ugly. Still, she sure can hit the high notes!"_

"Yeah, she's good at all that whooping and hollering, but she don't know jack about cooking…"

"_Hey, where's Gristch? I thought he was done playing with the kitchen shrill."_

"You know Gristch," the Human replied. "Stoopa chuba never lets up and this girl's a fighter. It could take him awhile to get some. 'Course, he's about as good with the ladies as he is a blaster for hire."

"_Lousy at that too, huh?"_

Bursting into laughter, the two men staggered on down the hall until a sound caught the attention of the alien.

The Aqualish grabbed his fellow Vulkar by the arm and jerked them to a stop. _"Did you hear something?"_

"Hear what?" the Human asked irritably as he scanned the hall. "I don't hear anything."

"_I'm telling you I heard something, Vin!"_ The Aqualish insisted.

"Fiexl, you've been chewin' too much spice," Vin said with a shake of his head. "Ain't nothing there but the droids. Probably them you hear clanking about. Protocol in those stupid things always breaks down when they don't get wiped proper."

The sound of something bouncing off the walls in the direction they were headed made them snap their gaze forward.

"_See! There it is again,"_ Fiexl hissed pulling his blaster.

Vin yanked his stun baton from his belt and hollered, "Whoever that is, you better stop messin' around!"

Silence was the Vulkar's only answer.

Vin slapped Fiexl with a low jolt of his stun baton, causing his cohort to wail in pain. "What is it with you? Now you've got me jumpin' at shadows on our home turf. Fiexl, you need to lay off the damn spice!"

After shaking off the painful jolt, Fiexl barreled into Vin, punching the Human in the gut and knocking his stun baton out of his hand. The two Vulkars fought, taking pot shots at one another. They were so busy wrapping their hands around the other's throats that they never noticed the stealthy figure coming at them from behind.

Without warning, a hand gripped both Vulkars by the head and forced them together with a solid thump, knocking them unconscious.

The figure crouched over the fallen thugs, relieving them of their valuables when another Human exited the dining hall.

A wiry, bald-headed man with numerous tattoos complained, "I could square away some quality time with the little joy girl if that stupid guard droid wasn't there. Who's bright idea was that any—whoa! What the--?"

Gristch's words were stopped by a strange thump to his neck. A heaviness came upon him and a wet trickle quickly made its way down his throat, soaking into the shirt he wore. His hand reached up and found the handle of a knife protruding from his neck.

Falling to his knees, Gristch tried to speak, but all he made were wet gurgling noises. He fell to his side, not quite sure if he was supposed to leave the blade in or to pull it out. He heard the sound of heavy boots coming towards him, but couldn't make out the shadowy figure until it stood directly over him.

The figure crouched down beside him, revealing a woman in battered armor. Her hand rested warily on the grip of her vibroblade. The failing hall lights tinged her hair a strange, deep colored purple. Gristch watched fearfully as her dark eyes flicked from the knife in his throat and came to rest on his face. Her lips curved into a pitiless smile.

"You must be Gristch," she concluded. Tilting her head, she arched a brow and whispered, "I'm afraid I'm gonna need my knife back, Gristch."

The Vulkar's eyes grew wide with panic as she reached forward…

---------------

Felize Kelsig was used to getting stepped on and pushed aside. She had lived beneath the towering sky scrapers of the Upper City all her life. The Tarisian nobles that went slumming in the Lower City made sure that everyone they came across in the lower levels knew just how little they were worth. No matter what they said, Felize never believed them. Until her father ran out of money to pay for his spice…

First, the credits she earned at Javyar's as the cook's assistant vanished, then useable parts scavenged from their own electronics were pawned, and finally, the family heirlooms disappeared. Two weeks ago, when every favor had been expended and debt called in, her father had looked at her and smiled.

"_Ten hits of spice…"_ Felize thought bitterly._ "That's how much I was worth." _She crouched behind the counter in the Vulkar's dining hall. Her heart was pounding, dark purple and blue bruises formed along the skin of her neck and down her arms. She held a sharp butcher knife in her hand, waiting, fearing…

Staring across from her on the reflective surface of the walkthrough cooling unit was a battered young woman. Wide green eyes were encircled with black, from lack of sleep and a slap to the face so hard its bruise stained her cheekbone and bled into the flesh below her eye. Even though days had passed, the bruise was still there, its color slowly fading from black and blue into a sickly yellow green.

Sleeping in the kitchen, even with the droid _protecting_ her, was dangerous. Mostly it just kept her from leaving the kitchen and dining area, but if any of the Vulkars came into the kitchen, they were automatically shocked and escorted back out into the dining room. However, the old bucket of scrap wasn't programmed to assist her if she was out in the dining room.

Felize had learned straight away never to leave the safety of the kitchen or to be lured out by the demands of the dining room occupants. More than one Vulkar had already tried to catch her unaware and help themselves to more than just the food.

Felize's eyes dropped to the large knife in her hand. In the last two weeks, she'd cut more Vulkars than vegetables with it. She smiled grimly, her cracked lips split and she tasted a trace of coppery blood in her mouth. Her hand tightened around the knife handle as she recounted what Gristch had tried to do just minutes before. _If that hairless son of a Wookiee comes back, I'll give him something to grab on to! _

Fear lanced through her as she heard the doors of the dining room doors slide open. Felize waited, but heard nothing. Not the heavy steps of boots, not the harsh words of the Vulkars she was forced to cook for. Nothing.

Slowly, she rose up, peeking around the dining room from behind the kitchen counter top. Except for a hopelessly intoxicated Duros who lay at the foot of one of the tables, the room was empty. Standing up straight, Felize crooked a brow in confusion. "Maybe the lack of sleep is finally getting to me," she whispered.

"No, it's not," a disembodied voice answered back. Suddenly the droid at the end of the bar deactivated with a fizzle and a pop.

Felize looked about frantically, trying to find the owner of the voice. Materializing a few feet in front of her, sitting on a table with her foot resting on the still-passed-out Duros, was a woman. Her black hair was pulled back into a messy knot. Her bangs were swept to the side away from her dark eyes. Felize noted that her battle armor had look like it had seen better days.

"You're not a Vulkar," Felize stated, somewhat confused.

The woman flashed her a crooked smile and waved at her in a friendly fashion. "Hello there. This is going to sound strange, but you don't by any chance have some flexi-strips, do you?

Thunderstruck, Felize blinked.

---------------

An hour had come and gone and Carth had just about paced himself into a hole. Scenarios of Rhyska being detained by trigger happy gangsters replayed in his mind, causing Carth to gnash his teeth. _Where in the heck is she? Probably pillaging the whole Vulkar complex. What was I thinking asking her to go scouting by herself? Should have sent the Wookiee…_

Thoughts about Rhyska's hairy protector drew Carth's gaze to the shower room. After Mission had exited the shower, he had stepped in and out in record time, smelling a great deal better. Zaalbar had refused to go, despite the smell of the sewer still clinging to his hair.

It had taken Mission forever to get Zaalbar to step into the shower, plying him with promises of sea-beef, crates something called flutter krill, and a couple other things that sounded fishy and downright repulsive to Carth.

Eventually, the little Twi'lek had worn her friend down and he had finally relented. The Wookiee disappeared into the shower and hadn't come out since. Now Mission was trying to get him out and the hairy lug was refusing._ "What now?"_

"What's going on here?" a familiar voice asked abruptly.

Carth nearly levitated at the question. Turning around, he glared at Rhyska and demanded, "Where have you been?"

"Well, just a few minutes ago I was riding a bantha topless through the corridors. It was quite a spectacle. Sure made it easy to mow down the Vulkars that just stood there like a bunch of dim-witted chubas," Rhyska replied in a falsely conversational tone. A look of annoyance worked its way across her face as she crooked a brow. "I was scouting out the level, you nerf! What did you think I was doing?"

"Well, it took you long enough, Knickers," Carth retorted. "It's been over an hour!"

"Who said to find a blaster free zone through the base?" Rhyska asked flatly.

Carth took in a deep breath and exhaled. "Just tell me, how bad is it?" he asked, hoping that they could just move the conversation along.

Rhyska looked at Mission who stood by the shower door, still attempting to coax Zaalbar out. "This level isn't the problem. It's the swoop garage we're gonna have trouble with."

"Swoop garage?"

"Yeah," Rhyska nodded and turned her attention back to Carth. "There's a nearby elevator that goes straight to the swoop garage. There's only a few droids on this level and a couple of Vulkars holed up in their bunks. I chatted up a server in the dining hall. The only problem I foresee is snatching the passkey to the elevator."

"Passkey? What key?"

"The one that disables the canons that guard the elevator," she filled in. "The canons that'll disintegrate us if we so much as step into the alcove."

Carth's brows rose as he murmured, "Ah, _that_ passkey…They seriously have cannons guarding their elevator? How paranoid is that?"

"I'd be kind of paranoid, too. Call me crazy, but Zaerdra doesn't strike me as the kind of girl I'd want to make mad."

"No kidding," Carth muttered. "So, you mentioned some Vulkars were in their bunks? Anyone of them have the passkey?"

"I'm sure we can persuade one of them to fork over the goods," Rhyska said, her lips slowly tugging into a grin.

"You mean, passkey," Carth corrected sternly.

Rhyska grinned and shamelessly amended, "Yeah, that too!" Looking back at Mission and the sonic shower room, she asked, "What's going on over there? Where's Zaalbar?"

"Oh, he's in the shower room," Carth replied with a shrug. "Apparently, he won't come out."

Her grin drooped at his answer and she arched a brow at him. "Please tell me you didn't let him go in there."

"What? Everyone else went and well, he smelled just as bad as you did, but what can he do? The big guy's covered in hair."

"Um, Carth?" Rhyska began, "Have you looked at your reflection recently?"

"No. Why?"

"Because you're hair is sticking up."

"So what?"

"Mission doesn't have any hair, but I had to fix mine when the shower was done. The shower just about made my hair stand on end and right now, yours looks like you've been jabbing yourself with a stun baton."

"Is there a point to this?"

"Zaalbar is covered with hair," Rhyska pointed out archly.

Carth frowned and ran a hand through his hair. Sure enough, it was sticking straight up. His eyes flicked over to the sonic shower and he wondered out loud, "You don't think…"

At that very moment, a very clean, very fluffy, very upset Zaalbar emerged from the sonic shower with a pitiful moan. _"Mission, I can't get my hair to go back down!"_

"Sweet Kika," the little Twi'lek mumbled, staring in open mouth wonder.

"_I can't be seen like this!" _the Wookiee wailed as he tried to smooth his outer coat down.

Beside Rhyska, Carth was doubled over in laughter, barely able to choke out a sentence. Pointing at Zaalbar, he managed say, "Check out _Fluffy_!"

The Wookiee howled indignantly. Mission stepped between her furry protector and the laughing pilot, seemingly to keep the two of them apart. Rhyska expelled a tired sigh. _Great. Just great…_

---------------

Felize slapped some sea beef on the grill and seasoned the meat. She moved slowly as if in a daze. _Life is beyond strange_, she mused.

First that female mercenary came in asking for flexi strips. Then she left, only to return, dragging in four unconscious Vulkars, including a wounded _Gristch_, one after the other.

Felize hadn't really wanted to stick the thugs into the walk-in cooling unit, but the woman had insisted. _"Trust me, its best this way," _she had said.

Felize wasn't so sure about that, but then she recalled the time she had accidentally locked herself in the cooling unit once. It couldn't be opened from the inside, not since the last kitchen slave had taken out the controls and froze to death.

The Vulkars hadn't bothered fixing it. The more Felize thought about it, the more she liked it. She especially liked the idea of _Gristch_ in the freezer, bound up, with no where to go.

After slapping the rare-cooked meat onto a large plate and fixing up some sides, Felize began to wonder about the woman's last request...

"_Say, can you cook up a heaping plate of food? Meat with all the trimmings? I've got a friend who is a heartbeat away from eating my partner."_

"_Um, yeah. Sure," Felize had replied, noting that the nameless mercenary had said 'partner.' She hadn't come alone. "You—you're coming back for me, right?"_

"_Of course." The mercenary grinned as she closed the cooler door on the unconscious Vulkars. "I mean, how far are you gonna get on your own? You said yourself, you aren't allowed out of the dining hall. Wait for me and I'll take someplace safe."_

"_Safe, huh? The safety of a slave pen, maybe?" Felize had countered._

_The woman had cocked her head and looked at her. Her dark eyes pinned Felize down, making her regret her words. "I'm sorry. It's just for all I know, you're gonna sell me to the highest bidder once we're clear of here. You might have noticed that it's happened at least once already…"_

_The woman pursed her lips and shrugged. "I was under the impression that the Beks frowned upon intergalactic slavery."_

_Felize's heart stuttered at the mercenary's words. "The Beks? You know the Beks?" _

"_Yeah, I'm here to do a job for Gadon Thek. Seems like the whole of the Lower City is tucked away inside his base," the mercenary informed her. "I can't see him turning you away. So stay here, chill out, and it'll all be cool."_

_Felize's heart was still hammering as the woman turned away. She had just begun turning on the burners when the mercenary spun back around. "Can you do me one more favor?"_

"_Yes, of course," Felize agreed readily, hoping that she didn't sound as desperate as she felt._

"_Can you call up some of the Vulkars on this level? One at a time? Make sure they come in through the main door of the dining hall. You seem to have plenty of flexi strips. It'd be a shame to waste them."_

_For the first time in longer than Felize cared to remember, she smiled. It was a grim smile, tinged with pain as her split lip began to bleed again, but she didn't care. _

Felize set down the food on a nearby table and stared at the dining hall doors. Some time had passed, and still the mercenary hadn't returned. The woman claimed that some friends were nearby, but for all Felize knew, she was long gone. Leaving her with a cooler full of knocked-out Vulkars.

Her eyes narrowed and slid towards the doors of the cooling unit. The hope that had momentarily exhilarated her, dropped to the bottom of her stomach. Tears stung her eyes and she trembled in frustration._ Stupid! Stupid! How could I be so—_

The doors swished open and an overgrown mud-colored dust bunny stalked in. Felize stared at the creature in shock, her mouth dropped open as its black eyes zeroed in on her. Her hand flew to her neck and she took a step back as the hairy bi-ped advanced on her. Suddenly it stopped and sat down right in front of the steaming plate of food and began shoveling the contents into its mouth.

Felize tilted her head and scrutinized the monstrous ball of fluff as it stuffed its face full of seared sea beef, before realizing that it was, in fact, a Wookiee.

"A Wookiee experiencing a really bad hair day," Felize muttered under her breath as she watched him slurp down one of the side portions. Suddenly, another thought dawned on her. _Wait a minute, there's only one Wookiee that hangs around the Lower City in this territory…_

"Jeez! You act like you've never eaten before!" a familiar soprano voice tsked behind the Wookiee.

"It can't be," Felize whispered. _I know that voice! _

A Twi'lek the color of a blue green sea came up from behind the hulking Wookiee and came to halt when she spotted Felize. The teen's mouth dropped open and her brown eyes widened in surprise. "Sweet Kika! Felize? What are you doing here?"

Felize rushed around the counter and engulfed the younger girl in a hug.

Mission flushed in embarrassment as she realized the Human was crying on her. She awkwardly patted Javyar's assistant cook on the back which was a little hard to do with a rifle between the two of them. Mission pulled away just long enough to sling over her shoulder before being squeezed by Felize once more. "Aw, come on now. It's okay. You don't need to cry. Seriously!"

"Great! You two know each other," a voice exclaimed from the doorway.

Felize turned her watery gaze to the female mercenary from before, a man stood beside the woman. His battle armor was just as beat up, but he was just as well-armed as his partner. Though, it seemed he preferred blasters as opposed to vibroblades. They stood there looking so confident, so heroic that Felize began to cry again.

Carth automatically took a step back and made certain that Rhyska stood between him and the weeping slave girl. _Give me Sith and Rakghouls any day… _

Making a fist, Carth brought it up to his mouth and cleared his throat. "Okay then, so Nevar and I will go check out the Vulkar dormitories for the lackey that's carrying our passkey. While we're out, Mission can take care of her friend. You've got plenty of medpacks, right?"

"Hey!" Mission exclaimed indignantly as Felize sobbed into her shoulder. "You can't just leave me with her!"

Carth turned and headed out the door.

Rhyska trailed just a few steps behind him. "We're not leaving you with her, so much as leaving you in charge, so see if you can't get any more information about the swoop garage or anything else we should know about."

Behind her, Rhyska could hear Felize begin to hiccup between sobs, causing Mission to holler at their retreating backs, "You guys suck!"

When the door slid closed, Carth turned his stony glare on Rhyska.

"What?"

Jerking a thumb back at the dining hall Carth asked, "What did you do to that poor kid?"

"What did I do? I didn't do anything. I came, I went, I brought you there and I don't know," Rhyska shrugged. "Maybe she's just really grateful, or maybe she cries at the drop of a hat. It's not like we swapped life stories when I saw her last."

"Uh huh, or maybe you mugged her," he suggested archly.

"I did not mug her! I can't believe you'd imply such a thing! I would never--"

Carth stared her down until she folded.

"Okay, I'll admit to mugging a couple of Vulkars along the way, but I did not lay a finger on her."

Rhyska expected to receive another lecture. Surprisingly, Carth just shook his head at her and chuckled. Her surprise faded when he reached out to ruffle her hair. She batted his hand away. "Hey! Watch it! I just fixed that!"

As she smoothed her hair back, he flashed her a smile that could've melted the ice caps on Hoth and said, "Can't leave you alone for a second, can I, Gorgeous?"

Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe all the head trauma was finally catchin' up to her. Still, she couldn't quite stop her cheeks from going pink or keep her heart from stuttering. _Damn, but Flyboy could be dangerous, even when he wasn't trying to be._ _Gonna have to watch out for that_, Rhyska warned herself.

Despite her irritation, Rhyska was glad that he wasn't in a crappy mood. This particular level might be quiet, but in all likelihood, the swoop garage would be heavily guarded.

No matter how much Carth wanted to protect Mission, Rhyska was certain they'd all be seeing some action pretty soon…

**

* * *

Author Note:** As always, many thanks to my awesome betas. My chapters would suck considerably without their weeding and suggestions. To the readers, feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing. 


	21. Breaking and Detonating

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kotor. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**Breaking and Detonating...**

* * *

Zaalbar reared his shaggy head and let out a burp that had Mission wincing and the slave girl ducking for cover.

The Wookiee offered up a shrug by way of apology but the little Twi'lek could only shake her head.

"Jeez, Big Z! Think you could keep a lid on it?" The teen huffed, "You just about rocked the compound with that one."

Zaalbar wiped away the trails of meat juice dribbling down his chin and asked, _"Mission, does Felize have anymore meat around here? I'm still hungry."_

"You have got to be joking!" Mission eyed the empty platter in front of him. "Z, if we don't get back Gadon's accelerator because we had to roll you outta here, I'm going to kick your hairy butt!"

"_I can't help that I'm still hungry,"_ Zaalbar growled.

"There isn't enough time to cook you anymore food!" Mission insisted.

"_It doesn't have to be cooked…"_ Zaalbar pointed out, looking expectantly at the waitress.

Mission's jaw dropped and she shook her head in disgust. "Gross…" With a resigned sigh, she turned to Felize and asked, "Where's the meat locker?"

--

As the doors to the cooling unit slid open Zaalbar sighed, briefly enjoying the temperature drop before strolling deeper into the Vulkar refrigerator. The Wookiee heard the soft swish of the door close behind him as he scanned the contents for something tasty.

Instead of the smell of fresh meat, his nose picked up a myriad of scents, none of which he'd willingly call food.

Heading to the very back of the cooling unit, Zaalbar found several hunks of beef hanging from hooks on the ceiling. On the ground, lying haphazardly below the beef, were a number of bound and unconscious Vulkars.

"_Someone's been busy…_" he muttered to himself. Scratching his shaggy head, he shrugged and happily swiped off a chunk of meat from the nearest slab of sea beef.

He took a long lingering sniff of the meat and frowned. It didn't look or smell very appetizing, but that didn't stop his stomach from grumbling in hunger.

Just when Zaalbar was about to take a bite, he heard a moan. Crouching down, he scanned the unconscious pile of Vulkars for the origin of the sound.

Another muffled whimper led him to a Vulkar with a serious neck injury. A kolto patch had been slapped haphazardly in place and Zaalbar noted that the hairless man seemed to be the only Vulkar that hadn't been bound.

If his pasty complexion were any indication, the gangster wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

A familiar smell registered with Zaalbar as he inhaled the man's sickly scent. He recognized it as one of the more recent scents that layered Felize's own.

The Vulkar groaned, his face twisting into a grimace as his eyes flickered open.

Leaning forward, until his face was mere inches away from the gangster's, Zaalbar waited until the Vulkar became aware of him. With smirk, he howled menacingly, brandishing his sharp teeth in the man's face and was rewarded with the sight of the gangster's eyes rolling back into his head in a dead faint.

Zaalbar grinned and took a voracious bite from the hunk of beef in his hand. Behind him, he heard the cooler door slide open. It was followed by the light, familiar steps of his partner in crime.

"Jeez! What's with the hollering, Big Z? You just about gave Felize a heart attack!" Mission exclaimed. "Carth and Rhyska just got back and--whoa!"

The teen stopped just behind, rifle trained on the bound Vulkars. "What the heck happened here?"

"_It seems our thief was far busier than she claimed..."_

"You say that like it's a bad thing. I'm a thief," Mission pointed out archly.

"_Yes, you are. She reminds me of you."_

Mission relaxed her stance at the compliment and blushed. Swatting the Wookiee playfully, she mumbled, "Aw jeez, Zaalbar!"

With a grin, he finished,_ "You're both terrors!"_

Pursing her lips, Mission stomped towards the door of the cooling unit and hissed, "Thanks a bunch, _fluffy_! If you're done in here, how about we go get Gadon's engine..."

Zaalbar snorted as he watched her leave. Smoothing his scraggly hair, he grumbled, _"I am not _fluffy_!"_

Just before the door to the cooler slid shut, Carth and Rhyska's voices drifted in. Their words were cut off, but Zaalbar recognized the underlying urgency in their tones.

Standing perfectly still, Zaalbar looked back at the pile of unconscious thugs and tried to recall how he gotten into this mess. When he woke up this morning, he figured the most exciting thing he'd be doing was slapping a few Rakghouls around while he and Mission did their usual salvaging in the Under City.

"_Easy money."_ Zaalbar snorted and shook his head.

Somewhere in the middle of _business as usual_, he had been kidnapped by pigmen, rescued by strangers, and was currently in the process of stealing back a prototype engine for the Beks—in the heart of the Vulkar compound...

Another moan rose up from the pile of bodies. Irritably, Zaalbar made his way over to the offending thug and smacked him soundly with his hunk of meat.

Quickly scanning the other Vulkars, Zaalbar mused that it wouldn't be long before they would all start waking. Eying the slightly mangled beef in his grip, he gave it a sniff and made a face. With a curse, he tossed it into the pile of Vulkars and ambled on towards the exit.

Just as he reached them, the doors slid open and revealed the female he had stupidly pledged his life to.

Eyes as dark as his own looked up at him as she leaned in the door frame. "Hey there, big fella. You ready to go?"

Zaalbar wondered how someone so small could wreak so much havoc in such a short amount of time. Instead he gestured to the bodies and said, _"They will wake soon."_

"If everything works out, we'll be long gone."

His brow furrowed as he stared at her. _"You could have just killed them."_

Rhyska shrugged. "Job was to get back the engine, the Beks didn't much care how. They were a little more concerned with _when_..."

Understanding dawned on Zaalbar and he nodded. _"The swoop race."_

"You got it!" Rhyska exclaimed, mimicking Carth to perfection.

The Wookiee eyed her narrowly, not in the least bit amused. Not for the first time, Zaalbar wondered at his ill luck in being bound to the thief. It was becoming glaringly obvious that the rest of his short life would be spent in chaotic upheaval.

Looking past her, he watched as Carth began lecturing the waitress on what to do when they reached the swoop garage. Zaalbar cringed inwardly. _"Life could be worse—I could be stuck with _him_..."_

As if reading his mind, Rhyska piped in, "I thought he was kind of irritating at first, but he's handy in a tight pinch."

"_If you say so," Z_aalbar trilled dubiously._ "We should get going."_

Flashing him a crooked grin, she twirled her hand in the air and bowed low. "After you."

Zaalbar snorted at her antics and walked past her.

Rhyska stepped aside and let him pass. Her eyes followed his retreating form for a moment before returning to the figures lying on the floor of the cooling unit. Stepping out of the doorway, her gaze remained on them until the doors of the cooler slid shut.

--

Sitting in the darkened security office of the Vulkar swoop garage, Phlinch Dern was also pondering his ill luck. Several months ago he'd been a top notch splicer for the Lightning Cyphers. In hindsight, Phlinch could see that joining a gang that was all brain and no muscle wasn't the brightest idea. Mostly he'd joined for the prestige of being the best—and the best splicers all joined the Cyphers.

Of course, that was before Brejik decided that the Cyphers really needed to join the Vulkars. Phlinch didn't remember much of what had happened, but he did know that there was a very, very short turf war which ended with a lot of his former friends being _or elsed _to death.

When the time came for Phlinch to join the Vulkars, _or else_... he had gamely replied, "Sure."

Being alive was great.

Of course, that had been before he'd been put on Rancor feeding duty and Under City salvage runs. There were days when death was preferable to the smell of the Under City, or the constant threat of turning into a Rakghoul.

And just when Phlinch thought things couldn't get any worse--they did.

After a long list of crap jobs, Kandon, the Vulkar's second in command, had him moved to a security console. The day he saw the inside of the security room in the swoop garage, Phlinch almost cried.

For the most part, he was left alone to monitor the swoop garage and to revamp the Vulkar's antiquated security system. Pure bliss compared to his former jobs. Not that he was actually given permission to update the security systems, but what Vulkars' didn't know wouldn't hurt him—yet.

Honestly, Phlinch knew he should have seen it coming, but he was too distracted with his new surroundings to care. That was, until things between Brejik and Kandon really began to sour.

Normally, Brejik's paranoid sights were set on Gadon Thek, leader of the Beks. But lately, Brejik had begun to notice just how popular Kandon was to the other Vulkars. So had Kandon, and he hadn't been shy about tossing his weight around or challenging their fearlessly psychotic leader in full view of their subordinates.

Phlinch remembered the day Brejik sent Kandon and his crew out to retrieve Gadon's prototype accelerator. While Kandon was out procuring their victory in the upcoming swoop race, Brejik paid him a visit and dropped a project Phlinch's lap--splice into Kandon's office security feed and find out just how loyal the Vulkar second in command really was.

"_But Kandon will blast me if he finds out!" Phlinch stuttered. _

_Brejik laughed mercilessly. "And I'll blast you if you don't—or feed you to my pet rancor. Whatever! I don't really care! Get me my proof and stay on my good side, Phlinch. You might just live awhile longer..."_

That had been a week ago.

Phlinch spun his chair around in lazy circles as he scanned the numerous security holos shown above his console in a half-assed manner. Putting his foot down, his ride came to a dizzying halt. His attention settled on a lone security holo flickering as his latest computer spike spliced their way deeper into Kandon's personal firewall.

Considering that he answered directly to Kandon on a daily basis, Phlinch was pretty much certain that this little project was going to get him killed. No one but Lita ever saw the inside of Kandon's office, though he was pretty sure the services Lita provided had little to do with swoop bikes...

For a moment, Phlinch allowed himself a little detour from his current panic attack. One in the form of Kandon's delicious lookin' arm candy.

_Mmm, Lita... Man, that was one foxy little Twi'lek—even if she was crazy._

Phlinch shook himself from his train of thought and inserted another computer spike into Kandon's firewall and waited, knowing it wouldn't be long before he slaved Kandon's security matrix into his own network.

He was damn lucky Brejik needed Kandon for the swoop race, otherwise he already be dead.

Phlinch wasn't stupid. He knew Brejik wasn't really interested in whether or not Kandon was a loyal little Vulkar. It didn't matter because in the end, any excuse would do. Kandon's time was up. He just didn't know it yet.

Unfortunately, Phlinch knew that meant his time was up as well.

If he succeeded with Brejik's little plan, Kandon would end up dead—but not before burning a few holes into Phlinch's favorite head.

If he didn't succeed, Brejik would feed him to the Rancor, or the Under City mutants would get him...

Option A: Rancors Option B: Mutants Option C: Getting shot in the head...

Phlinch weighed each one and wondered if there was another option he hadn't considered yet.

Suddenly, the security holo that had featured Kandon's firewall disintegrated as the spikes completed their job. The holo enlarged and focused into an image of Kandon's office.

Phlinch crooked a brow and leaned forward, staring at the holo. A smarmy grin spread across his face. The movements and excited sounds were unmistakable. So far as Phlinch could tell, the only thing this particular security holo proved was that Twi'leks were indeed supple.

Eyes glazed over, Phlinch leaned a little closer to the holo and murmured, "Whoa..."

He was so far gone, he nearly missed the alarm he had set up in his makeshift security matrix. Dragging his eyes away from the trysting Twi'leks, he pulled up the visual data he had recorded through the system of hidden mini cams he had set up throughout the swoop garage—without Kandon or Brejik's permission—and nearly crapped himself.

Someone was subverting the swoop garage security matrix from a nearby terminal!

"What the..." Phlinch stared shock at the five people crowded around the terminal in question. Phlinch wasn't surprised that the infiltrators could subvert the Vulkar security matrix, it was older than dirt and easy to slave. He was just shocked to find that he could name three of the five people. The whiny waitress from upstairs, Mission Vao—the Beks' favorite mascot, and her furry protector, Zaalbar.

"Obviously, they're here for the accelerator," Phlinch muttered under his breath. "Gadon Thek. Might'a known the old Bek wouldn't take Brejik's thievin' lying down."

With a snort, Phlinch turned his attention to the scruffy and paranoid looking mercenary that had accompanied them. He was well muscled and moved like he'd had military training. "So the Beks have bought themselves the services of a stranded merc to do their dirty work." Phlinch let his attention drift to the dark haired woman who worked the terminal.

Leaning forward, Phlinch listened as the pistol packing merc asked, "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

With a sigh that spoke volumes, the woman answered bitingly, "Look, I realize I lack the finesse of a pro, but it's not like we were aiming for anonymity, Carth. We blew up their rancor and we're about to steal the Bek's accelerator back. They're gonna know we were here. It's pretty much unavoidable!"

Phlinch's eyes grew as round as saucers as he rocked back into his chair. The woman's words echoing in his head. _"We blew up the Rancor..."_

_Had they really?_ Phlinch wondered, _Was the beast actually dead?_ Well, that development pretty much made Option Amoot. Which left him with turning into a mutant or getting shot.

Then another part of the retrievalist's conversation caught his attention.

"What are you doing, Rhyska?" Mission asked as she looked over the woman's shoulder.

"I'm redirecting the power into the energy cell of the lone bike over there."

The man called Carth hissed, "You're going to blow that up?"

The dark haired woman shrugged. "We need a distraction and we need to thin out the Vulkars. Racing bike goes kablooey, Vulkars come on out to put out the fire, secondary explosion of the remaining bikes will take care of the majority. It'll give me and Mission the cover we need to find the accelerator and it'll give you and Big Z a fighting chance to hold the garage until we get back."

"Hold the garage?!" Carth spat incredulously. "Are you insane? How am I supposed to hold the garage with a Wookiee and a pan-wielding waitress?"

"That will be entirely up to you, _if_ I can shut off safety protocols controlling the energy cells."

"You're hinging everything we have on _if_?"

Phlinch smiled ferociously. Another option was quickly revealing itself to him. Whatever finesse the woman lacked as a splicer she made up for with her reasoning. Every Vulkar in the garage _would_ head straight for those bikes.

Brejik had made promises to certain gangs and he'd talked enough smack around the Lower City that losing at the swoop race was not an option. Not to mention he hadn't exactly hidden the fact that the Vulkars had stolen the accelerator. If the Beks stole it back in time to use it against him, it would make him look worse than weak. He'd look like three different kinds of fool. A psychotic, maniacal trigger-happy fool.

Ultimately, Phlinch knew that he really had only one option. Without another thought, he deactivated the safety protocols for the garage and let the _If_ theory play out.

Phlinch leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the console.

While the woman named Rhyska slaved the security network to her terminal and looped all the video feeds into reruns, Phlinch enjoyed the few brief moments Kandon and Lita had left before all hell broke loose.

_When the energy cells to the bikes overload, the hazard alarm will sound off and then the party will really get started._

--

Carth hated the plan. The plan contained explosions, therefore the plan sucked.

Heat and smoke rolled through the garage when the first bike exploded and as predicted, Vulkars poured into the garage from every nook and cranny in an effort to save the other bikes.

The second explosion took out a good portion of the Vulkars that rallied around the remaining bikes. Carth wished he'd brought some goggles or a re-breather. _I can barely breathe in this mess, much less shoot. _

Crouched behind some debris, Carth kept low to the ground and tried not to breathe in the smoke. Squinting his eyes, he scanned the garage for any sign of life. Recognizing a familiar form on the ground, he nudged Felize with his foot and rasped, "Hey? You alive?"

The battered waitress uncurled from her fetal position on the ground. Her hands were still clapped over her ears as she cracked open an eye and exclaimed, "I think I've gone deaf!"

"Yep, you're alive," Carth muttered dryly. "Where'd the Wookiee go?"

"How should I know?" Felize spat as she looked around frantically. "I can't see anything in this mess!"

Carth smothered a laugh. He hated to admit that he was thinking the very same thing. "Keep your voice down! That last blast didn't take care of everyone. Stick by me and do as I say and we'll get out of this mess."

"What about Mission and your partner?"

_Partner?_ Carth snorted and replied curtly. "They're busy."

They were busy alright. Both were long gone after the first explosion. Off to search for the coveted accelerator. _So nice of them to leave me to hold down the garage with a crying waitress and a Wookiee I can't even communicate with. Or apparently keep track of..._

Carth growled, "Where the heck is he?"

His question was answered with a hail of blaster fire. Felize screamed and tried to make herself as small as possible.

Carth fired back from his hiding place, fervently hoping that Rhyska and Mission found what they were looking for—fast.

Despite picking a few of the Vulkars off, Carth hadn't made much progress. And then, things got worse.

While returning fire, Carth narrowly missed catching a blaster bolt to the chest. Instead, it grazed across his ribs. Before falling back behind his debris cluster, Carth caught sight of the armored droid that nearly ended him. "Blast!"

"Are you alright?" Felize called out to him.

"I'm gonna kill her," Carth muttered as he fished through his gear for some kolto.

Felize's eyes grew wide as she squeaked, "What?!"

Carth rolled his eyes and slid a blaster to the girl. "Here, do me a favor and shoot at some bad guys, okay?"

Even as he spoke, Carth could hear the heavy footfalls of the droid and the shuffling the thugs made as they maneuvered their way through the smoky debris, closer and closer to them. Blaster fire continued to pummel his hiding place.

"This is not good," Carth muttered as he fired back. A glance in Felize's direction proved that the girl putting the blaster to good use. He didn't know what she was firing at, but he was glad she wasn't aiming in his direction.

Carth wasn't sure how close the droid was until a large chunk of debris sailed right into the scrap pile he was using for cover.

Dashing for cover behind a nearby debris pile, Carth hollered to Felize, "Aim for the battle droid!"

Felize kept on firing, flinching at each blast and then she noted a strange sound. "Um, mister uh, Carth? What's that noise?"

A repetitive clanging erupted from the smoke and darkness. A battered droid made a bee line towards the Vulkar camp, enemy blaster fire not slowing down the old droid in the least. The scrappy little unit tackled the armored droid and proceeded to blow up, incinerating everything near them and knocking everyone to the ground.

Pain lanced through Carth. Before he'd even hit the ground, he knew he'd taken some shrapnel in his leg. Biting back a curse, Carth pulled his blaster and aimed it at the nearest Vulkar, taking the thug down.

He wasn't quite fast enough to get at the other Vulkar snuck up behind him and put him in a headlock. The heavily muscled arm squeezed against his throat, making him light-headed.

Panic and anger rose within Carth._ Can't lose consciousness! Can't die like this! I just can't!_

For another agonizing minute, Carth struggled and his lungs burned. Then suddenly, he was lying face down on the ground, the Vulkar was gone and he was grateful for the acrid air filling his lungs.

A deafening roar echoed throughout the garage. Getting up on his hands and knees, Carth squinted at a tall, furred figure swinging around a wicked looking wrench. The Wookiee cracked the skulls of the unfortunate Vulkars who weren't quick enough to get out of his way.

Carth's eyes widened as he watched the Mission's fearsome friend take his rage out on the few Vulkars left standing.

Carth grimaced as he watched Zaalbar pick up a wiry little thug and toss him clear across the room, where he landed in a jagged pile of scrap. _Note to self, don't make the Wookiee angry...Ever!_

Instead, Carth rasped, "Where you been, big guy? Could have used your help earlier."

Zaalbar answered him with a series of trills, grabbing him by the scruff of his battle armor and hauling him up to his feet.

Felize wandered over to them, her eyes wide as she offered Carth back his second blaster. "Here. You should take this back. I'm not really any good with blasters. And Zaalbar said he was busy disabling the elevator and repairing that droid that blew up earlier. That was his handiwork."

"Oh, well, good job," Carth replied weakly. "What's this about the elevator?"

Zaalbar rolled his eyes at the human and turned to Felize, who in turn translated for Carth. "The alarms for the garage have alerted everyone in the compound. Company's coming down the elevator."

Turning to Carth, Felize trembled fearfully. "He said we need to find another way out, or we're screwed..."

Carth looked from the waitress to the Wookiee and spat, "Of course we are."

--

Phlinch watched the very pissed off Wookiee club a few mechanics and racers with a massive wrench. He couldn't quite smother the chuckled that escaped his lips. _Fitting really._

His attention slid over to the other holos. So far, he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Mission and her dark haired friend. _Probably running around all stealth-ed up._

Phlinch scratched his head and pulled up the security net for the upper levels of the compound and felt the blood drain from his face.

In the elevator room of the residential quarters stood a number of Vulkars. Several of their top splicers and droids worked to reconnect the stalled elevator.

Waiting at the head of the line was Brejik, his face dark and foreboding.

A chill raced up Phlinch's spine. He knew that look. That was not a good look.

He was just about to pull up a holo from Kandon's security net when the doors of the security room slid open, revealing Mission Vao's dark-haired friend.

Phlinch noted that she didn't look half so friendly with a blaster trained on him and like Brejik, she looked none too pleased.

Her gaze was focused steadily on him the way a malraas focused on its prey. Phlinch swallowed hard and opted not to make any sudden movements.

Cocking her head slightly, the woman drawled, "What? No witty comebacks? Aren't you going to plead for your life?"

"Uh, no." Phlinch replied, tenuously. "I was going to give you two very good reasons not to kill me."

The woman's lips curved into a crooked grin and a spark of amusement lit her eyes. Leaning into the door frame, she urged him with a sweep of her hand. "Well, don't let me stop you. Go on, slim. Why am I not going to kill you?"

Phlinch jerked a thumb at the security holo of the upper elevator room. "Well, for one, the obvious exit is blocked. The elevator may be jammed now, but it won't be forever. Brejik and his boys will be down here the second it works."

The woman's eyes narrowed and her grin vanished.

"And well, for the second reason..." Phlinch turned and pulled up a Kandon's office on a holo. "Looks like your little Twi'lek friend found the accelerator before you did, but Kandon and Lita aren't going to let her just walk out with it. If you don't get on over there, she's toast."

Quirking a brow at his last comment, the woman slowly sauntered over to him. The barrel of her blaster coming to rest gently against his forehead. "Well, they're very good points, but so far, you haven't really given me a reason not to shoot you."

"I can open the hanger doors the racers use to bring their bikes in and out of the garage," Phlinch offered up quickly.

"That would be helpful—if we had a bike to get out of here on."

"I, uh, know where Kandon and Lita's bikes are."

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she considered his words. "And you're helping me because..."

"Internal power struggle. No matter who leads, I'm a dead man. I want out."

Pulling her blaster back, she grinned. "Personal survival. Now that's a reason I can buy."

Phlinch nodded emphatically. "I'm happy to give you whatever reason won't get me blasted." As he turned to lead them to Kandon's machine shop, a slender hand settled on his shoulder.

"Don't even think of double crossing me, slim." Her fingers dug into his flesh hard enough to make him flinch. "Betray me and I will blast out your kneecaps and leave you for Brejik."

Eyes wide, Phlinch answered the only way he could. "Sure."

--

"Shut up, you stoopa chubas! There ain't nothing you have to say that I wanna hear!" Mission exclaimed, punctuating her declaration with a few wild shots of her rifle from behind her refuge, a sleek swoop bike with all the bells and whistles.

A lime green Twi'lek, in a swoop bike suit held up his hand, signaling his mistress and two Vulkar bodyguards to hold their position. "You've got nowhere to run, Vao. If you're smart, you might join up with the Vulkars."

Mission snorted. "You're dreamin' if you think I'd ever hook up with you stinkin' Vulkars!"

"Hangin' with the Beks ain't done you much good," Kandon pointed out. His tone taking on a note of sympathy. "Sure they feed you and give you a place to stay, but hey, it's not like you and that freakin' carpet of a bodyguard don't pay them in salvage the shops round here wouldn't kill to have a first look at. You're too good for 'em, Vao. You ain't never gonna be a Bek."

"I am so!" Mission exclaimed. "One more year and it'll be official. I'll be a Bek and then you and everyone else can kiss my hind end!"

"Oh, is that Gadon's excuse?" Kandon scoffed. "You aren't old enough? Stupider, older sentients are invited into the Bek ranks everyday, but a bright little thing like you has to wait in line?"

Lita made some tsking sounds and came to stand next to her lover. "Looks like Mission's about as smart as her loser brother, Kandon. The Vulkars don't need silly little shrills hangin' about."

Mission's face went purple with fury. She fired several awkward shots over the seat of the swoop bike and was pleased to hear her captors curse and duck for cover. "Takes a shrill to know one!" she hollered back. "Are ya finished talkin' me to death? How about you and your joy girl shut up!"

"This is your last chance, Mission!" Kandon growled angrily. "The only way you're leaving this room is if you join up. Otherwise, you'll just be another body we feed to Brejik's pet rancor. Ain't nobody here got your back!"

"Big Z's got my back!" Mission spat. "When he gets here, he's gonna tear your arms off and beat you with 'em!"

"I don't see your Wookiee friend now," Lita snickered. "You're all alone. Your brother left you all alone and the Beks sent you here to die alone!"

"No gang means no protection," Mission heard Kandon say. "You just ran out of luck, Vao. Can't have you stealin' my bike. I worked way too hard stealin' that accelerator from the Beks to let you screw this up. It's time to rub you out."

Mission readied her rifle as she felt Kandon's bodyguards rush her. A chill settled in the pit of her stomach as time slowed down. She might be able to take care of Kandon's bully boys, but she'd never be able to take them all down. Realization struck her. _I'm a goner, for sure. Poor Big Z. Who'll take care of him now? He'll be all alone—like me. All alone... _

A foot or two away, between the swoop bike and the Vulkars, a small cylindrical tube landed with a clang, releasing smoke as it crashed on to the floor.

Mission held her breath and used the distraction to activate her stealth unit and move while Kandon, Lita and the Vulkars coughed up a fit.

"Now, now. Play nice with your guests!" a familiar voice chastised.

Mission felt relief wash through her as she ducked for cover behind another swoop bike. She tried to set her sights on just one target, but couldn't make out which dancing figure was which. All she saw were legs.

She could hear the sounds of a scuffle as people and fists collided into each other. Mission saw what looked to be a foot slice through the air and make contact. The injured figure fell with a pained grunt.

Only three people remained. Mission nearly jumped out of her skin when a blaster shot rang out and someone gasped.

The machine shop fans kicked on, sucking the smoke out of the room. Mission's eyes widened as she took in the scene before her.

Two Vulkars lay on the ground, one unconscious and one dead. Kandon stood near his bike with a smoking blaster and Rhyska stood across from him. Between them was Lita. Her small, lithe form trembling as she stared at the blood rushing out from the wound in her gut.

Looking up at her lover, Lita whispered, "Kandon?" before crumpling to the floor.

Kandon went pale as Lita ceased breathing. Fury unlike any Mission had ever seen erupted out of the swoop racer with a howl. He came at Rhyska and they met each other with vibroblades.

A horrible sound filled the air, making Mission clap a hand protectively against the side of her head as the two blades tried to take each other apart. Sparks flew as Kandon and Rhyska traded blows, each blocking the other's strikes.

The fight came to an end when Kandon's free hand reached for his blaster. Rhyska dropped and rolled out of the way evasively, her hand sliding up from her boots. As Kandon came at her with blade and blaster in hand, she blocked him with her vibroblade and drew her boot knife across his neck before he could pull the trigger.

Mission watched wide eyed as Kandon crumpled to the floor, blood rushing from his throat. Her eyes slid over to her Rhyska, who crouched over the Vulkar and used his swoop suit to wipe the blood off her knife.

Rhyska stood and looked at her. "Where's this oh so important accelerator?"

Mission blinked and pointed at Kandon's swoop bike. "I—uh, think they already installed it into one of their bikes."

Rhyska walked over to the bike and hollered, "Hey, Slim! Get over here!"

A skinny human with shaggy, straw colored hair ambled into the room. He looked at all the carnage and exclaimed, "Holy shavit! You actually killed them!"

"It's not like they gave me a choice," Rhyska replied irritably as she hooked her vibroblade back to her belt. "Time to do your part."

Phlinch nodded and headed over to the machine shop's console and began the sequence for unlocking the doors to the swoop garage.

"What?" Mission exclaimed. "He's a Vulkar! We can't trust him!"

"Which is why you'll be with him. He's gonna get the hangar doors, the both of you will snag a bike and wait for me."

"Where are you going?" Phlinch demanded. "The elevator just got fixed. Brejik's coming down. We can't be here!"

Rhyska hopped onto Kandon's swoop bike and started it up. A sliver of thrill raced up her spine as the bike hummed. He might have been a prick, but Kandon sure knew his bikes. _Sweet ride!_ "I'll be back. Gotta go pick up some friends."

Switching gears, the bike glided forward and out the machine shop doors, thundering down the halls.

Phlinch looked at Mission and asked, "Is she always like that?"

Before the little Twi'lek could answer, numerous explosions rocked the swoop garage.

--

Carth knew they were out of time when the elevator brought down a batch of really pissed off gangsters. He fired on the swarm of Vulkars even as the elevator closed its doors and was recalled for another wave.

Zaalbar handled the few that avoided his line of fire and even Felize managed to knock a few upside the head with her frying pan, but it wasn't enough. Eventually, they'd be overrun.

As he kept on firing, Zaalbar began to trill and gesture wildly towards the door leading to the machine shops.

"I'm busy, Fuzzy! Can't talk right now!" Carth exclaimed, as he kept on firing.

Zaalbar hissed at the pilot and turned his attention to the waitress and said, _"I set up a few mines by the elevator and in a few other places. Go through those doors and get behind the wall. The detonations should be significant."_

"Um, Carth?" Felize began.

"Not now!"

Zaalbar smacked nearby Vulkars aside with a swing of his wrench and blasted at thugs in the distance with his bowcaster. The Wookiee howled victoriously, a snarl curling his lips.

Felize backed away from Carth and ran past Zaalbar. The Wookiee barked a few more orders to her as she ran for the doors leading to the machine shops. From behind the safety of its walls, the waitress hollered, "Carth! Zaalbar says you need to get back over here right now!"

Her voice was drowned out by blaster fire.

"What?" Carth bellowed, keeping his eyes on their enemies.

"You seriously need to get over here! Right now!"

"I don't know what you or the Wookiee are babbling about, but it would be helpful if—hey! What are you doing?!"

With an irritable growl, Zaalbar picked Carth up by the scruff of his body armor and hissed, _"I said _move,_ you __fool!__"_

Suddenly, Carth found himself airborne and screaming. He landed through the open doors with a thud, sliding across the floor, right into the wall.

Zaalbar leapt in after him.

Grabbing a hold of Carth's foot, the Wookiee dragged the human to safety beside Felize, just in time for several explosions in the swoop garage to send debris and body parts flying in various directions.

Carth coughed and sat up, clutching his ribs. "I think you cracked a few of my ribs, fuzz ball!"

Zaalbar shook his head and trilled, _"If you'd have just done what I said, your ribs would be whole. Oh, wait! That's right! You didn't bother listening to the translator when I told you what was going on."_

With a snort the Wookiee finished, _"Serves you right!" _

Squinting at the agitated Wookiee, Carth turned to Felize and asked, "What did he just say?"

Not even looking at him she muttered, "Serves you right."

Groaning, Carth stood up and flashed Zaalbar a suspicious look. "All that growling and yipping for one snarky comment?"

Standing up and brushing the dust and debris off her, Felize rolled her eyes. "Pretty much."

"Uh, huh," Carth replied dubiously. "We better go see what's keeping the girls. Not much point in hangin--"

Felize screamed as a singed Vulkar thug slammed a heavy fist into Carth's jaw, sending him flying back against the wall.

Zaalbar roared, pushing Felize as close to the wall as he could. A sound of thunder echoed throughout the hall way.

Dizzy from the blow and head roaring with pain, Carth opened his eyes just in time to see a giant of a man loom over him menacingly.

The roar in Carth's head became louder and louder the closer the gangster came to him. Then suddenly, the roar stopped and the Vulkar went sailing through the air as a swoop bike slammed into him.

Carth looked up at the rider sitting atop the swoop bike, a sour look on his face. "You _had_ to hit him with the bike. You couldn't just, I don't know, blast him?"

Rhyska shrugged. "Seemed like the thing to do."

Mission and Phlinch arrived on their bikes just as Rhyska waved Felize over.

"Where's the accelerator?" Carth asked as Zaalbar helped him up.

"I'm riding it."

Carth hopped behind Mission on her swoop bike. While, Zaalbar none too gently shoved the Vulkar splicer farther down the seat of human's bike, taking his place up front.

"All right, everybody! Let's get outta here!" Rhyska shifted gears on her bike and took off. Out they went through the hanger doors, towards the Bek base, and one step closer to rescuing Bastila.

--

Stalking like an angry kath hound amidst the wreckage, Brejik surveyed what was left of his swoop garage. All around him, his underlings searched through the garage for any salvageable parts.

A low keening moan drew his attention to an injured swoop racer. Lips curling into a snarl, he pulled out his blaster and shot the man. Every thug in the garage came to a stand still as they waited to see what their leader would do next.

To no one in particular, Brejik growled, "Get me Selven!"

**

* * *

Author Note:** Many thanks to the awesome Bryn. You rock! To the readers, many apologies for taking sooooooo long to finish this chapter. Hope you enjoy. As always, feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing.


	22. Another Day in Paradise

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kotor. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**Another Day in Paradise**

* * *

Rhyska couldn't decide if it was the break-neck speed, the power humming throughout her body, or the way the swoop bike sliced through the wind that made her want to kick it into high gear and blaze off into the sunset. _Whatever it is, I like it! _Throwing her head back she crowed into the wind.

Behind her, the waitress squeaked, "Watch the swoop lane! Watch the swoop lane!"

The arms around Rhyska's waist dug in sharply as Felize cried out, "Left! Go left! Don't hit the pylon!"

Beside them, Zaalbar howled a warning.

Rhyska heard nothing over the roar of the wind, but she heard Felize just fine. She swerved sharply, sliding in behind Zaalbar as they went down a narrow tunnel lit up with yellow hazard lights.

They exited the tunnel into the Bek's swoop garage. Guards and mechanics ran towards them as they rode in.

With a sigh, Rhyska brought her bike to a full stop along side Zaalbar's. The claws digging into her side receded as Felize slipped off the bike and crawled away.

Mission's bike came to a stop on the other side of her as Gadon Thek and Zaerdra exited an elevator into the swoop garage. The Bek leader's artificial eyes landed directly on her and grinned as she gave him a mock salute.

Beside him, Zaerdra frowned. Her gaze was focused on the splicer wearing Vulkar colors and bearing their tattoos. Rhyska watched as the lavender colored Twi'lek barked out a curt order to some nearby guards. Moving into action, they rushed over to Zaalbar's bike and drug Phlinch away.

The Ex-Vulkar hollered, "Whoa! Relax, would ya? Could you not point that blaster at me? I helped them escape the Vulkar base! That means I helped youpeople out! Look, all I want is to not get shot!" Within moments, they had vanished into the Bek elevator.

_Huh, I should probably say something on his behalf_, she mused to herself. Then suddenly she felt the adrenaline levels inside her body drop, taking what little energy she had with it.

"You're psychotic," a familiar voice drawled beside her, "but I'm sure you already knew that."

Rhyska looked askance and found Carth standing beside her. Leaning forward, she rested her forearms over the swoop bikes handle bars and yawned. "Whatever, Flyboy. I believe you owe me some flameout."

"You sure about that, Knickers?"

"We arrived with a day and a half to spare before the swoop race. You owe me, Carth."

"Later," he said, reaching over to ruffle her already mussed up hair. "I wanna hit their med unit."

"I'll take you there myself," Gadon Thek promised, clapping Carth on the shoulder. "Just give my mechanics the accelerator and we'll be off."

Rhyska slapped her bike. "It's somewhere in here."

A mechanic scowled. "You sure it's in this one? Looks like the bike hit something..."

Carth grimaced. Behind him, Zaalbar barked in amusement.

"She hit somethin'?" Mission repeated. "What'd she hit, Big Z?"

"A Vulkar," Rhyska supplied blandly.

Mission whistled. Zaerdra quirked a brow at her and Gadon winced sympathetically.

Rhyska shrugged as she got off the bike and moved out of the mechanics' way. "He was in my way. I'm sure it's fine. I wasn't going that fast."

"_Yes, you were,"_ Zaalbar trilled.

Rhyska stuck her tongue out at the Wookiee and frowned at the swarm of mechanics that descended on her bike, taking it apart. A tired sigh escaped her lips. "What a waste..."

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, swaying slightly as a wave of fatigue washed over her. Forcing herself to be still, she focused her attention on the mechanics and fought to keep from yawning.

Carth watched the irritated thief do her funny little dance and proceed to glower at the Bek mechanics. He'd been wondering when the stim would run out. If he didn't miss his guess, she'd be passing out real soon. "How about someone take us to the infirmary? We should get checked out. Sooner rather than later."

Following Carth's gaze, Gadon's silver gaze raked over them and nodded. "Follow us then. An old friend stopped by to visit and do a few check ups around the base. I think you've already met..."

* * *

In fact, they had. Carth grinned when he caught sight of Zelka Forn. The Tarisian doctor gave everyone a thorough examination, injecting the four of them some pure grade kolto to speed up the recovery process.

Mission and Zaalbar took off for the mess hall as soon as doctor gave them the green light, which left Carth lying on a bed waiting for his ribs to finish knitting. In the next bed over, Rhyska slept, blissfully unaware of the world around her.

Carth handed over the last of the Rakghoul serum samples to a very excited Dr. Forn before regaling him with their many near misses in the depths of Taris. While Carth talked, the older man took advantage of Nevar's unconscious state and ran some scans.

"Should I be worried about her?" Carth asked, while the doctor worked.

"That depends," Zelka began. "How well do you know her?"

"I've only known her a couple of days."

The doctor tsked. "Well, she's going to be out for awhile, she's suffering from exhaustion. I'm surprised the stim kept her going for as long as it did, but she's paying for it now. Won't be up till late tomorrow, if that. The only thing I'm worried about is her brain scan."

Carth didn't like the sound of that. "What did you find?"

"Well, other than the leftovers of a massive concussion, nothing recent. Just traces of some form of surgery."

Carth nodded. "Yeah, she said she was caught in an explosion on her old ship. Died twice and everything."

Zelka nodded. "Well, I'm a general practitioner and the brain is not my specialty, it just—it looks as though there were a number of surgeries performed in a specific area of her brain."

A cold and icy feeling blossomed in Carth's chest. "Can you tell what area?"

"Not really sure, like I said, not my specialty." As an after thought, Zelka added, "If you are able to make it back to Republic space, it wouldn't hurt for her to get her head checked, just in case. In the mean time, the both of you could use some rest. So how about you take your friend's lead and catch some shut eye?"

The doctor had taken his leave after that, but still, Carth couldn't seem to get to sleep. His eyes wandered around the room until the settled on a pile of fresh clothes at the foot of his bed.

Rising gingerly, he took advantage of the Bek's med facility shower room and washed the rest of the Under City away. Carth flopped back onto his bed, relieved to be in fresh, clean clothes.

Hearing her shift restlessly on her bed, Carth looked over at his morally deficient ally and sighed.

She was curled up on her side with one hand tucked under her head and the other draped across her stomach. Her nose crinkled and she murmured something in her sleep.

He had to admit, she was made quite a sight sleeping in her grubby battle gear on the clean bed. Though the sonic shower had helped earlier, he could still pick up the unmistakable hint of sewer and smoke. Carth snorted. _Or maybe I'm just cleaner and can't smell myself anymore..._

Suddenly, she made a small noise, her hand flexed sharply and then curled into a loose fist. She shifted again and Carth shot up from where he lay, reaching for her. _Too late_.

His fingers just missing her as she rolled right off the bed and landed on the floor face first with a thud.

Carth sat there with a look of panic frozen on his face, his hand still hanging in the air. He expected her to wake up, to curse, anything...but she didn't.

Brow furrowing in confusion, Carth got up and crouched over the fallen woman, turning her over. He brushed some tangled strands of hair out of her face and was rewarded with a snore.

For a moment he was completely floored. _Who the hell could sleep through a thing like that? _

Before he even knew it, he was chuckling and then he was laughing. He stayed that way for awhile, sitting next to her and laughing until his sides hurt.

* * *

Rhyska wasn't sure if it was a combination of the concussions she'd received over the last couple of days, or maybe it was the mix of medications she had been given recently. Taking in a deep breath, she exhaled slowly and rubbed her temples.

_At least I'm clean again._ It was nice to find Lyn's bag of dancing gear and her own clothes at the foot of her bed. It took forever to scrape all the sewer crap off her lucky boots, but she managed. The Echani armor, however, wouldn't be seeing the light of day. _Gonna have to score some cash pretty quick. Maybe I oughta throw some credits down on tomorrow's swoop race._

She groaned as she leaned back into the stands, her elbows resting on Zaalbar's knees.

The Wookiee sat directly behind her, happily munching on a thick piece of jerky. He looked down at her irritably. _"Just because I am pledged to protect you, does not mean that I am willing to be your couch." _With that said, he gently pushed her forward.

Rhyska sighed. "Spoilsport."

Mission bounced on the stands, whooping and hollering as the Bek's swoop bike came zooming in from the other side of the circuit.

"Go, Carth! Go!" the little Twi'lek chanted, pumping her fist in the air.

"Well, better him than me I suppose..." Rhyska muttered, as she watched Carth race around the track enviously.

"_I have seen your piloting abilities,"_ Zaalbar trilled._ "I do not intend on being in the same space lane as you—ever."_

Rhyska scoffed, waving away the tide of dust and debris that the swoop bike kicked into the air. "I just need a little practice, is all."

Zaalbar eyed her doubtfully and grunted, turning his attention back to his afternoon snack.

Mission laughed and plopped down beside Rhyska, swiping a piece of Zaalbar's jerky on the way down. "Guess what? I traded a few odds and ends for this sweet new stealth generator! It's so much better than my last one."

Standing up, Mission grinned. "Check this out!"

Rhyska watched Mission shimmer out. She smiled indulgently as the teen demonstrated just how quickly she could move her stealth unit.

While Mission's disembodied voice chattered away, Rhyska took a moment to scope out the Beks' enclosed swoop circuit.

It looked to be a promenade from Taris' olden days. _Probably from when this particular level was once upon a time Upper Taris,_ Rhyska mused.

The center of the circuit was converted into swoop pit, where mechanics and other racers waited and watched. Looking up, she gazed at the many apartment levels built up and around the track. Her gaze quickly skimmed over its many pitch black openings, some small and window sized, others large enough to pass for an entryway.

Her attention was pulled back to Carth as he finished his last test run around the circuit, coming to a stop in the swoop pit. The posse of mechanics swarmed around him, as well as a few of the Bek racers. Even from where she sat, she could tell they were quite happy with Carth's performance.

A small smile quirked the corner of her lips. For once, her traveling companion didn't look completely miserable. In fact, he looked to be in his element. Vaguely, she registered Mission's voice informing them of her intent on surprising an unsuspecting Carth, who had just dismounted the swoop bike and was speaking to Gadon Thek.

Rhyska noted that his violet shadow, Zaerdra, stood beside him. Her eyes were wary in a place that should have been like a second home to the Beks.

_If I were them, I'd expect some retaliation._ Rhyska_ c_ounted the many guards wandering around on the outside of the track and mused that home wasn't such a safe place anymore.

Carth chose that moment to look in their direction and waved. Rhyska was about to wave back and make a crack about his piloting skills when she noticed a strange glinting in the upper levels from one of the openings.

Time seemed to slow down. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened as she realized what it was. She watched helplessly as several precise blaster bolts left the barrel of a rifle. Rhyska's eyes followed the red bolts even as she stood up and began to move. Her actions alerted Zaerdra instantly. The body guard threw herself into her commander, knocking him to the ground.

Carth, uncertain of what was going on, turned to look at what had her in a panic. The first blaster bolt whizzed past him, narrowly missing Gadon Thek. Instead, the bolt passed through Mission's stealth unit, fizzling it out, and striking the teen.

Behind Rhyska, her protector howled as he watched his best friend collapse under fire.

Rhyska ran over to them blaster in hand, shooting in the general direction of the assassin. Another volley of blaster bolts rained down on the people in the pit, this time focusing on the swoop bike with the Beks' accelerator.

Before Rhyska could even make it to her friend's side, the bike exploded in a shower of fire and debris, sending her flying back into Zaalbar's furry girth, knocking the both of them down into the stands.

* * *

"I spend entirely too much time in medical facilities_," _Rhyska muttered to herself as she gazed around the room. This time, there were numerous people in the Beks' med bay and Zelka Forn was a busy man.

Deciding that there was no real way to keep from being underfoot, Rhyska decided to pull up a chair and prop her feet on Carth's bed, while Zaalbar had claimed a space beside Mission's fiddling with her broken stealth unit. They both made fantastic obstacles and had scored several irritable looks from various members of the med staff.

_Not that they've got any reason to be going near Carth or Mission_, Rhyska mused. Both the teen and the Captain Tightpants had been rendered unconscious by the blast and Zelka felt it best that they stayed that way until their kolto treatments were over.

She couldn't blame him for his assessment. Neither Mission nor Carth had displayed the ability to sit still for longer than five minutes.

Rhyska gazed at the Twi'lek's young face. There was no worry or pain etched there, just slumber and innocence. Closing her eyes, Rhyska tried to banish that horrible look of shock on the girl's face when she crumpled to the ground. It had been so close. If Zelka hadn't still been in the Bek compound giving health checks to its numerous guests, the odds would have been against the Twi'lek.

With a sigh, she turned her attention to Carth and shook her head. He was not going to be happy when he woke up. After all the trouble they'd gone through to get that stupid accelerator, it just figured that it had to go and get blown up.

Still, Zelka was optimistic about both of their recoveries and Gadon spared no expense with their kolto treatments. Rhyska supposed it came from a healthy dose of guilt. Couldn't be easy to watch a fourteen year old take a hit that was meant for him.

Her thoughts drifted to tomorrow's swoop race. _Where exactly does that leave us? For that matter, where does that leave Bastila? _

Rolling her eyes and rubbing her temples, Rhyska groaned. Carth was going to have a litter of Kinrath pups when he woke up.

Getting up from her chair, she nodded to the Wookiee. "Hey, Zaalbar. I'm gonna wander around for a bit."

The Wookiee frowned, his gaze flicking from her to Mission. _"You should not wander alone. It would not help if you were also incapacitated."_

"Don't worry about me. There's more than enough security running around now. The assassin won't get a second chance inside the base. Besides, I'm not the target."

The Wookiee growled in frustration. _"Striking from a distance is no way to face an enemy!"_

Rhyska grunted in agreement as she walked away.

* * *

Convincing Zaalbar to stay in the med bay proved much easier than she first anticipated. Relief washed through Rhyska as she followed some Beks down the hall. All that talk about life debts had worried her, but apparently the Wookiee was willing to be a little flexible.

_Now, if I could just find Gadon..._ Sighing irritably, she searched through the Beks' lounge and a number of its open rooms. The Bek leader was nowhere to be found and no one seemed interested in giving up his location._  
__  
_Rhyska stopped for a moment, intent on cursing everyone within a ten mile radius when suddenly it occurred to her the one thing she and Gadon Thek had in common_. _Very conspicuous bodyguard_s.._

_How hard can it be to track down a walking arsenal? _Rhyska mused, _And a purple one at that_. A_fter what happened at the Beks' swoop track, Zaerdra won't let Gadon wander too far from her._

As it turned out, finding Zaerdra was ridiculously easy to find. _She must be a real ball buster if her subordinates are willing to spit out some very precise answers in regards to her whereabouts._

She found the heavily armed Twi'lek and Bek leader in a hanger near the quartermaster's office. The hanger doors were opened and a delivery transport was being unloaded. _Supplies, maybe? _And then she noticed a familiar face, Kebla Yurt.

Keeping her distance, Rhyska watched Kebla speak to Gadon and Zaerdra, noted that the business woman didn't look too happy.

_Strange, I wouldn't think she'd come all the way down here just to make a delivery...  
_

Suddenly, Kebla exploded into a fury, kicking a nearby parcel and sending it tumbling over.

Rhyska flinched at the woman's actions and half expected Zaerdra to jump the angry store manager.

Instead, the Twi'lek winced in sympathy and set a reassuring hand on the woman's shoulder while Gadon spoke, calming the Upper Tarisian.

Whatever was said, Kebla left with her delivery team, a little less angry than she'd arrived. It made Rhyska wonder what had transpired. Walking over to them, she waved.

Gadon's face was carefully devoid of emotion as his gaze rested on her. "You're a long way from the med bay..."

Rhyska shrugged. "I got tired of sitting around and frankly, the med bays creep me out."

The Bek leader smiled sheepishly and admitted, "I know what you mean."

"What pressing reason could you have for leaving your lover's side?" Zaerdra asked bluntly, her violet eyes fixed on Rhyska.

For a moment, Rhyska stared dumbly at the Twi'lek before bursting into laughter. "We're not like that!"

She watched as Gadon and Zaerdra traded dubious looks. Her voice took on an embarrassed pitch as she insisted, "Seriously, the only thing I've shared with the guy is munitions and an escape pod."

The Twi'lek nodded and replied mockingly, "Whatever you say."

"You don't strike me as lifer in the fleet," Gadon admitted, rubbing his chin.

Jerking her attention back to Gadon, she asked "Lifer? What?" Rhyska shook her head in confusion. "You lost me."

"You're not like your boyfriend," Gadon posed diplomatically.

"He's not my boyfriend," Rhyska insisted. "How many times do I have to say that?"

Ignoring her completely, the Bek leader continued on. "He seems like he's a fleet man all the way. You, on the other hand, don't sound like you've been with the Republic fleet for very long."

"Oh!" Rhyska nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I got into a spot of trouble and I had a few skills they found handy. Basically, it was this or prison."

Gadon grinned widely and laughed. Beside him, Zaerdra smirked. "Now _that_ I can believe."

"Anyway," Rhyska replied in a long suffering tone, "I realize that your accelerator kind of blew up this afternoon..."

"Kind of?" Gadon chuckled. "No, it's definitely gone."

"Right, the thing is, I want to take Carth's place in the race tomorrow."

Zaerdra stared at her as though she'd lost her mind. "What would be the point? The accelerator's gone."

"So? Nothing's really changed. The stakes are still the same. Win the race, win back Bastila. Am I right?"

The Twi'lek snorted and arched a dubious brow. "Can you even ride a swoop bike?"

Rhyska glared at the bodyguard through narrowed eyes. "I got here, didn't I?"

"Getting here and winning a race are two very different things."

Ignoring Zaerdra, Rhyska pleaded with Gadon. "Look, the more riders you have, the bigger chance you have of winning. And whether I win or one your riders wins, we still get Bastila and you still get the glory. It's worth the risk."

"When a Hidden Bek gives his word, it's solid," Gadon replied gravely. "If you still want to race, I'll sponsor you."

Rhyska nodded. "Thanks, that'll keep Carth off my back..."

"If that's all..." Gadon began.

"I was wondering, do you know who tried to ventilate you earlier?"

"Brejik," Zaerdra stated flatly, her lips curling into a snarl.

"He was actually here?" Rhyska whistled. "Man's got nerve."

Gadon cleared his throat. "Actually, our sources say he hired Selven."

"The assassin? The one who's got a bounty on her head?"

"That's the one."

"Huh... You aren't planning on making an appearance at the race, are you?"

Zaerdra glared at her commander and hissed with finality, "No, he isn't."

Flinching at his second in command's tone, he replied sourly, "No, apparently I'm not."

"What are you gonna do about her?"

The Twi'lek looked at her pointedly and stated, "I'm going to kill her."

"Oh, well if you need any help with that, let me know."

"I prefer to hunt alone," Zaerdra said softly, her fingers wrapping around the handle of her short blade.

Rhyska kept her face carefully neutral and nodded. "Right then. Good hunting. I'll let you two get back to whatever it is you were doing," she said as she backed away.

Pausing mid-step, she turned around and smiled sheepishly.

The ill-tempered Twi'lek snapped, "What now?"

"It's a stupid question--"

"Then don't ask," the bodyguard grumbled.

"Zaerdra," Gadon chided. "Save your irritation for Selven."

The Twi'lek rolled her eyes, but relented.

"I was wondering, I mean, you aren't exactly hidden. Damn near half the lower city is packed away in your base and obviously your enemies are well aware of your location, so what's with the name? Why the Hidden Beks?"

Gadon stared at her, his metallic gaze unwavering and more than a little disconcerting.

Rhyska shifted from one foot to the other nervously. "You don't have to answer..."

The leader of the Beks gestured to a nearby elevator and said, "Walk with me."

* * *

Somewhere, many levels beneath the Bek base, Rhyska Nevar leaned over the railings of a platform and stared out into a vast cavern. Her attention was captured by a large and antiquated star ship.

She whistled in admiration. "When did you find this old relic?"

"My predecessor found it during a scavenge expedition." Gadon replied, coming to stand alongside her. "Our name came from the few letters that remained on the ship's bow. After we got her internal systems up and running a few years ago we found out the ship's name was the Hideo Na Beksus."

"Who's that?"

"Damned if I know. She might be from Taris' last civil war, but honestly we don't know. All we know is that she was forgotten."

From where she stood, Rhyska smiled, completely awestruck. _A Tarisian battle cruiser, will wonders never cease?_ "Can she fly?"

"Well, actually that's half the reason I brought you down here."

"Oh?"

"Your friend, Carth, he plans on getting off Taris, right?"

"It's all he talks about—other than finding Bastila."

"Are you aware of the Sith blockade?"

"You mean do we know that we need the pass codes to keep from getting blown to smithereens? Yeah, I had words with a guy at Javyar's about that."

"In order to get the codes you'd have to break into the Tarisian military base that the Sith are currently occupying."

With a heavy sigh, she muttered, "Don't remind me."

"If, by some miracle, you manage to retrieve the codes you'd need a ship."

"That thought had occurred to me," she remarked with more than a little bit of sarcasm.

Gadon swept a hand out to the Beksus. "I have a ship. Fully stocked, recently upgraded, and ready to go."

Rhyska glanced at Gadon's cruiser dubiously. _Sure she's a beauty, but she's older than dirt. Can she take a hit? Can she fight back? _"She got weapons?"

"She's weapons ready and her shield is fully functional."

"You ever taken her out for a spin?"

"When the Beksus takes off, she ain't coming back down," Gadon informed her gravely. "It's a one way trip."

"But you don't even know if she works?"

Gadon glared at her. "Let's not either one of us play dumb. Everybody knows what Malak did to Telos. You really wanna be here when he bombs the hell out of this place?"

_He had a point._ "So, I get you the codes and my friends and I score a ride out of here?"

"That's the plan. What do you say?"

Spitting in her palm, Rhyska offered him her hand. "I say you've got yourself a deal."

**

* * *

Author Note:** Many thanks to the awesome Bryn, who got this back to me super fast : To everyone else, feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing.


	23. Mad Dash

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kotor. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.

**Mad Dash**

A crush of people wandered aimlessly around the promenade admiring the new swoop bike models. Gamblers raced from one holo-vid to another, checking out the stats of would-be racing champions as they ran their heats, intent on gauging which swoop racer had the best numbers before placing their final bets.

The only holo-vid not crowded was the one Canderous Ordo had commandeered. The solitary Mandalorian lit up a cigarra and blew lazy rings of smoke into the air. The press of bodies and the blazing hot swoop engines added to the already sweltering heat.

For a brief moment, he imagined a different place, a lush jungle moon with man-eating beasts and obstacles that could test a Mandalorian's cunning and endurance. But the noise of the races quickly drug him back to the present, back to the place where he was nothing more than just a knee-breaker.

With a growl, Canderous tore his gaze away from the holo-vid and stalked off. The crowd parted, giving him wide berth as he progressed farther down the strip to where all of the swoop gangs were displaying their entries in the winner's circle. Punks with blasters stood poised and ready to ventilate anyone who came too close to their share of the prize.

He glowered at the ones that made eye contact with him and was perversely satisfied when they shrank back. _Pathetic hut'unns._

Canderous was pissed, though he really didn't know why. It wasn't like he cared about not being invited to watch the races from Davik's private balcony. What he did care about was getting squeezed out by that trigger happy midget, Calo Nord.

_It's time to change plans_, he decided. His time on Taris was just about up, he could feel it in his bones. Glowering, he muttered under his breath, "Only thing good about this backwater planet was the swoop racing anyways."

He quirked a brow when he recognized a figure standing to the back of the crowd that had accumulated in front of the Vulkars' exhibition. The little grenadier from the sewers--wearing the racing leathers of a Bek, no less. _Jhetat, but she works fast! How did she manage to get Thek to sponsor her in the race? _

Canderous ambled over to her side. He glanced at the Vulkars' prize and briefly spied a young woman with loose waves of auburn hair wearing nothing but a skimpy joy girl's bikini top and bottom. All around them, thugs and passerbys offered catcalls and whistles of appreciation. But not her. She made no sound. All she did was stare, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"What's with the face, kid?"

Rhyska blinked and looked at him, a dazed look passing over her features before her face went carefully neutral. "Sorry, what?"

Taking a deep drag from his cigarra he blew a ring of smoke towards the caged woman. "What's so interesting about her? You're staring like you know her."

The grenadier's mouth opened and closed, words unable to pass her lips.

Canderous looked back towards the Vulkars' prize, his own gaze narrowing. "Last year they offered up several female Twi'leks as their prize. Dancers, red ones. Very nice. Feisty."

Scrutinizing the human woman's form he noted, "This one has curves in all the right places, but her musculature isn't that of a dancer. Lean though. Don't know what's up with the force cage. She's out of it, too." Squinting, he noticed the silver circlet set against her temples. "Looks like they slapped some kind of neural restraint on her, too."

The more he saw of the Vulkars' prize the more curious he got._ What's with the maximum security?_ Taking another drag on his cigarra, he drawled, "Apparently, she's not your average joy girl."

"You have no idea," Rhyska whispered.

Canderous turned back to her. "So, you do know her."

"I really don't, but she looks familiar. Like I've seen her before, somewhere—only not wearing a bikini."

"Was she naked?" Canderous asked hopefully.

Smacking his arm, Rhyska shook her head. "She was fully clothed and armed."

"Ooh, even better!" Canderous threw his head back and laughed. "Speaking of which, what's up with the leathers? Were you the last racer practicing their heats for the Beks?"

"Yeah..." Rhyska answered, fidgeting in her racing suit.

"You really sucked!" Canderous announced. "I've seen Hutts that've run faster than you've raced, which confounds me because I know you've got better reflexes than that."

"I was trying to memorizing the track," she informed him through gritted teeth.

"How's that workin' out for you?"

She shrugged. "Might take me another turn or two before the ride smooths out."

Canderous rolled his cigarra to the side of his mouth and drawled, "Is that a fact?"

The grenadier bristled at his comment and flashed him an irritable look before answering flatly, "Well, yeah. What's the point of doing all this if not winning?"

She said it in such a way that he couldn't help but laugh.

"No seriously," Rhyska insisted, "I have to win."

"So do these guys." Canderous gestured to the gangsters and thugs wandering around. "And they've got credits and turf rights riding on this race."

"Big deal!" Rhyska snorted, her gaze settling back on the woman in the force cage. "The way my partner talks, the fate of the galaxy is riding on this race. Sure, he's kinda paranoid, but for the sake of my sanity, I'm gonna win this thing, or else..."

Dumbstruck, Canderous put the cigarra back to his lips and took a couple of drags. With the last puff of smoke he asked dubiously, "Or else what?"

An announcement rang out overhead, "Rhyska Nevar! Please return to swoop pit four! Rhyska Nevar! Swoop pit four!"

With a sigh, she turned back to him, "Looks like they're playing my song. You should lay some credits down on me."

Crooking a brow, he spoke in a low voice, "I heard the Beks had an engine that couldn't be beat. That the Vulkars stole it, but the Beks got it back. You have anything to do with that?"

"The Beks did get it back, but it had an accident and exploded," Rhyska replied with a grin. "The only edge I've got is me. I may not look like much, but I am the long shot. The payout is gonna be stellar when I win."

There it was again. _When I win. I'm going to win. I will win. _If there was a doubt in her, he couldn't see it, or feel it. Whatever her reasons, he got the distinct feeling her being in the race wasn't about winning at all. He also noted that she hadn't fully answered his question. "You ever race before?"

"Nope."

"And you expect me to bet on you and your nonexistent skill?"

"I don't expect you to do anything," Rhyska said as she turned on her heel. "I'm just saying. When I win, you'll be sorry you didn't." Without waiting for a reply, she ran back to the Bek's swoop pit.

Canderous watched her go and shook his head, _Well, I'll be a son of a Kath hound... She and Slick weren't down in the Under City to scavenge. They're the crazy cha'kaars that robbed the Vulkars!_

Walking over to the nearest bookie, Canderous weighed the odds of the crowd favorite against his unknown little grenadier.

Beside him, a young woman pleaded with a man in the betting line. "Largo, are you sure you should be doing this? Isn't this what got you into trouble the first time around? I don't think she'd approve."

"It'll be fine, Silla," the Upper Tarisian assured his companion. "Who better to place our money on than her?"

"Her who?" Canderous drawled curiously.

"Uh, Mr. Ordo, sir," Largo choked, fast going pale.

"Well, boy?" the mercenary barked. "Who'd you lay credits on?"

Behind the pale youth, the Twi'lek bookie snarked, "Stupid chuba laid credits on the Bek's new racer, Nevar. Slowest one of the lot. Might as well be flushing his credits down the crapper."

Flushing, Largo grabbed the girl's hand and vanished into the crowd. Canderous watched them go and rolled the cigarra in his mouth. Turning to the bookie, he punched in his credits and chose his rider.

The bookie stuttered, "Uh, Canderous, you can't be serious!"

Blowing a smoke ring in the bookie's face, he drawled, "Like there's anything better to blow my credits on?" With a feral grin, he growled, "Place my bet. I'm feelin' lucky..."

* * *

"Out of body experiences are not my cup of tea," Bastila Shan said to no one in particular. Deep within the recesses of her own mind, she had conjured up the memory of her favorite tree on Dantooine. Her safe haven.

From beneath its boughs, she gazed over the expansive fields of Dantooine and breathed in slowly, closing her eyes. A sharp whistle broke through her cocoon of silence. Her eyes snapped open as she exhaled raggedly.

Bastila gazed down on the crowd gathered at the base of the tree. A crowd of imbeciles had invaded her domain with their rude gestures and lewd comments. It was getting harder and harder to keep them out. Her gray blue eyes took on a glacial quality as she whispered distastefully, "Fools!"

The only thing good about her situation was that the masters weren't here to witness her failure. _I lost the whole ship. The whole bloody ship!_

Bastila shook her head dejectedly. It was unreal. In one fell swoop, everything that she had gambled on had been dashed away. There was no way that she could ever be granted the rank of Jedi Master after such a humiliating defeat.

The icing on the proverbial cake had been her crash landing into the deepest recesses of Taris and scrambling her senses. Her lightsaber had been knocked from her belt and only the Force knew where it was now. Probably hocked by one of the grunts that had come to scavenge her pod.

That had been an ill-coordinated fight. They had numbers and she was bleeding from the head, the odds just weren't in her favor. Eventually, Force powers or not, they had subdued her.

At first, they'd kept her heavily sedated, but her body healed quickly and burned through their drugs. After she'd flung two of her guards across the room, they added the neural restraint. Much to her dismay, it was a winning combination. It made her wish she'd kept her abilities a secret. Things might have turned out very differently if she had, but she hadn't. And so she bided her time.

There were days she wasn't always aware of what went on around her—and part of her didn't want to know. The only thing she could recall with any clarity was a name. Brejik. It was spoken often and with no little amount of fear. She assumed he was the one behind her incarceration.

Tearing her gaze away from the group of people, Bastila looked out across the swaying plains of Dantooine. She watched the sky change colors and the sun sink in the distance. She closed her eyes and tried to block out the barrage of noise assaulting her senses. That was when she felt it. A familiar presence in the Force—calling to her. And she could feel something in herself respond in kind.

Bastila's eyes snapped open and she found herself standing in the middle of field. The Tarisians from earlier were gone, faded into a mist that was slowly eating away at her mental safe haven.

At the edge of her vision, Bastila spotted a profile in the fog. She squinted and bit back a gasp when she recognized the figure. She had come across several dark Jedi in her travels, but only one dark Jedi wore the infamous mask that had once belonged to Mandalore--the former Lord of the Sith.

"What are _you_ doing here?" She croaked, "You're dead—dead and gone, Revan."

The Sith Lord didn't move, didn't speak.

Bastila's fight or flight responses warred with each other as Revan's ghost stared her down.

Distantly, she heard a voice snarl beside her ear, "Fierfek, Janaar! You gave her too much! Brejik said to keep her knocked out, not put her in a flaming coma! She dies, we're outta the race you kung-sucking bastard!"

A numbing cold was spreading throughout her body even as little needles seemed to stab at all her nerve endings. Her face twisted in pain and she gasped for air. Bastila had no idea what was happening to her physical body, but it hurt. It hurt worse than anything she had ever experienced.

Her eyes flicked to the dark Jedi and she hissed, "Is this why you've come? To see me die?"

And then the Sith moved forward, walking over to her.

Bastila staggered back. She tried to keep some distance between them, but the strength in her legs gave out and she swayed, falling.

Instead of feeling the impact of the ground beneath her, Bastila felt the sure grip of gloved hands on her arms holding her upright.

Panic seized Bastila as she struggled to free herself from the Sith Lord's grasp.

"Bastila..."

The voice that rasped her name sounded rough from lack of use, but there was power beneath it. When the Sith Lord called her name again, the power willed her to stop struggling and Bastila found herself unable to deny it. Her stomach lurched as the cold and pain shooting throughout her body intensified.

That was when she felt the first rush of power flow into her. It filled her with energy and healing, chasing away the icy numbness and the pain. Bastila gasped in relief and stared at the Sith Lord in disbelief. She hadn't felt this good since she before she was incarcerated, but that relief dropped like a stone in her belly when Revan spoke.

"Did you think I would let you die so easily, Little Jedi?" The Sith Lord shook its cowled head. "We have much to do, you and I..."

A strange glow emanated from the beneath the Sith Lord's mask. Before she had time to scream, Bastila was engulfed in a blinding flash of light.

* * *

She became aware of several things all at once, bright light, an unbearable heat, and a terrible pounding in her head. With a hiss, Bastila winced at the pain and rubbed her temples. "Bloody hell..."

She couldn't even fathom a guess as to what happened, but whatever it was, it felt an awful lot like her brain had been squeezed through a sieve. Into what, she wasn't sure.

That's when she got a good look of her new surroundings. She frowned in confusion. _A swoop bike platform? _Behind her, an engine growled to life. Her mouth dropped open in shock. "By the Force, it can't be..."

A woman sat on top of a swoop bike, her body encased in the protective suit of racer. Bastila watched thunderstruck as the woman cursed up a blue streak while jamming her head into a helmet.

Bastila felt a sense of relief so fierce, she nearly choked on her words. "R—Rhyska Nevar? But you're supposed to be dead. I thought—I thought everyone was dead. That I was the only survivor--"

Walking over to the woman who was busily pulling on a pair of gloves, Bastila demanded, "How did you get here? Did anyone else make it off the Endar Spire? And what are you bloody well doing in a swoop race?!"

But the rider went about her business, prepping her bike and waiting for the starter's signal, as though she hadn't just heard the loud demands being hollered into her ear.

"Are you even listening to me?" Impatiently, Bastila waved a hand over the woman's face and frowned when she got no reaction. "What in the world?"

The first signal lit up and the woman revved the engine, the bike lurching forward to the starting line. Bastila's eyes widened in shock as she watched as her hand passed through the woman's face. Her jaw dropped as she watched the woman shudder from the contact.

Looking at her own hand, Bastila uttered in dismay, "Oh my stars..."

* * *

A strange chill raced up Rhyska's spine even as beads of sweat trickled down the back of her neck, rolling until it was absorbed by the inner lining of her swoop suit. Tugging on her collar, she squirmed. It was a _very_ snug fit. She didn't mind snug, but she wished they were a bit more comfortable.

Zaerdra had said they were designed to fit as close to the body as possible. While the Twi'lek helped her suit up, she dispensed a little racing advice. _"The race is full of perils. Other than your suit, there is nothing else protecting you but dumb luck—and I wouldn't put much stock in that, either. I've seen plenty of racers try squeezing through places they ought not to attempt. But attempt it they do. I can count on one hand how many imbeciles survived getting snagged and being yanked off their bikes."_

Rhyska remembered nimble fingers combing through her hair, pulling it into a tight braid. _"Keep it simple," Zaerdra urged. "When I race, I take my time. Get my bearings. After a few times around the track, you'll be riding on memory and instinct. Trust your instincts. You'll _know_ when you need to move. You'll _feel_ it."_

The Twi'lek frowned as she added, "I'm not sure you should even attempt it on your first run, but when you go live, try to hit as many of the jumps as you can. It'll give you a serious boost in speed, but be careful. Make sure you're pointed in the right direction when you jump. Last thing the pit crew wants to do is scrape you off a pylon or retrieve your carcass from the lower levels if you jump off the track."

"Don't jump off the track. Don't end up as a smudge on the pylons. Win the race and—oh, yes. Save the girl. Right..." Rhyska muttered under her breath. In spite of it all, a crooked smile curved her lips. Tapping on her com unit, she signaled Zaalbar. "Hey, Big Fella. Remind me to score us some dinner—courtesy of Carth."

A familiar trill answered her back through her ear piece and she grinned. Gripping the bike's handles, she waited in anticipation for the second signal. Leaning forward, she tucked into her bike and waited for the last signal.

* * *

When the light turned green, the swoop bike thrust forth like a rocket. Bastila watched as it raced down the track.

For a moment, she wondered, _Maybe I ought to have followed_... and then she was moving, flying through the air. Gone was the swoop platform. She hovered over the swoop bike and its racer, following its movements, matching its pace.

A small sound escaped her lips and her eyes widened in surprise. Bastila had been on plenty of speeders and transports before, but she had never experienced anything quite like this.

_The masters never mentioned anything about out of body experiences—not that they've ever found themselves in such a predicament. What am I going to do now?_

It was strange. The wind wasn't pushing against her or ruffling her hair, but she could feel it. It was just as real as the heat emanating from the swoop bike. _Maybe, it's not that I feel it, but that _she_ feels it. Can I be experiencing sensations through her? _

Phantom wind rushed all around her and instinctively, Bastila spread her arms wide and lost herself in the moment. Exhilaration and adrenaline rushed through her veins—and then the swoop bike launched off a jump pad. The excitement was dashed away as she felt her incorporeal self disintegrating into a low ceiling.

Fear and surprise temporarily flooded her senses. With a cry, Bastila struggled for control of her disembodied self. Reaching out, she clawed at open air until she felt her fingers sink into Rhyska Nevar's back and found an anchor.

As she floated to sit just behind the estranged Endar Spire crewman, a barrage of sensations rushed into her. Images of the track bombarded her. One in particular stood out. Another jump pad. Another consciousness pushed against hers and suddenly the swoop bike adjusted its trajectory, slicing through the wind in an effort to make it to the pad.

Bastila's fingers squeezed involuntarily and she muttered, "Blast! You've over shot it!"

Suddenly, the engines cut back and they slid across the pad. The engines revved up again as they were propelled forward.

Soaring through the air, more images of the race track appeared in Bastila's mind as the swoop bike hit the ground and hurtled forward. Further ahead of them, she spotted several upcoming jump pads.

Frowning, the Jedi mumbled. "She decelerated when I noticed she'd overcompensated with her speed. Is she reacting to my thoughts?"

Her gray eyes narrowed as she spotted a series of clustered jump pads. "Well, let's test this theory, shall we?"

An uncharacteristic smile quirked Bastila's lips as she mentally nudged the swoop racer.

* * *

A beefy looking mechanic with shaggy iron gray hair and green coveralls stood with arms crossed in front of the Beks' swoop vid screen. A pair of flinty eyes scrutinized his riders and their bikes as they ran through the course. Behind him a small league of mechanics made themselves busy while awaiting their next pit stop.

Vin Hale spat out a wad of chew and readjusted his tool belt as the last Bek swoop bike slid across the finish line and into the swoop pit. The rider dismounted the bike and yanked off her helmet with a grunt and a few curses.

His crew swarmed the bike, making quick repairs and tightening up any loose parts before the next circuit. They had their job and he had his. He stared irritably at the woman as she wiped the perspiration from her face and neck with an old rag and squeezed a hydra shot into her mouth.

Without warning, he tore into her with a booming growl, "What t'hell was that?"

The woman looked up and spat. Squeezing another hydra shot into her mouth, she drank it down, her only answer to his abrupt question was an arched brow, as if to say, "What?"

"Yer speed was shoddy! Slow ta start and then barreling through like a maniac. Ya need ta be more consistent!"

Gulping down the last of her water, she huffed, "Look, it was my first run. It wasn't meant to be perfect."

_Newbies!_ Vin rolled his eyes and snorted, "Perfect? Who cares 'bout perfect? No one here's 'specting perfection from ya, but least ya could do is 'tempt to make a good run of it. Yo're as slow as a granite slug on yer practice runs and now this...Keep that shavit up and you can bet yer sweet fanny that yer gonna end up getting scraped off the track!"

"I'm touched by your confidence in my abilities," Rhyska drawled sarcastically. "No, seriously! You're totally inspiring me."

"Ah'm head mechanic, not here ta inspire ya. Ah'm here ta tell ya that you're embarrassing me and my bike! It's disgraceful! Didn't pull that bike outta retirement just so's you could ride her straight down the Hall of Suckage!" Vin spat. "Lookit the swoop reader board! Yer damn near at the bottom! And everybody knows that Gadon sponsored ya. The least ya could do is try not ta crap out!"

Rhyska ignored him and stared at the board. "Two of the Beks made the top five."

The cranky mechanic shook his head. "Delis just lost his lead ta one of those Vulkar punks! We're back in second place. He's run all his heats an his engine's pretty much shot. Leaving Shandi an yerself as our last great hope for winning. Shandi's bike clipped a pylon on her last run. She's only got one more chance ta make it happen an that's only if she gets lucky an her bike doesn't over heat. Ya got two runs left. Try ta race like ya give a shavit!"

Downing another hydra shot, Rhyska gave the flinty eyed mechanic a dirty look. "I'll win it, you cranky grub! Just do me a favor and quit riding me. You're starting to work my last nerve and I kinda need it!"

The mechanic sputtered, "Win it? You? Now I know yer crazy! Be lucky to keep second place at this rate!"

Rhyska frowned as the holographic racer board was replaced by images of the trophies.

* * *

Bastila stared in horror as her image appeared on the holo. Knowing and seeing were two completely different things. She quickly came to the conclusion that seeing was infinitely worse.

Even as she stood there speechless, Bastila listened as the mechanic spoke.

"It'll be a blasted shame about yer friend. I heard that Brejik plans on tradin' her to the Sith when they win." His eyed the racer accusingly. "Seems you downplayed her value to Gadon. Brejik thinks he can get all the turf in the Lower City with her."

Bastila looked from Rhyska to the mechanic as the situation became glaringly clear. "Force, help me. I'm a prize in this bloody race?" Turning back to view her own image among several others on the holo board, Bastila's eyes narrowed as she noted something else. Something she found extremely disturbing. "Am I—am I standing there in my underwear?"

"Brejik isn't going to get squat." Looking directly at the mechanic, Rhyska growled, "The Vulkars won't be winning this race. I've already stormed their stupid compound once this week. I'm not about to do it again. And I sure as hell don't want to hear Carth piss and moan about this mess, either."

Spinning around, Bastila walked towards Rhyska, hope stirring within her. "Captain Onasi's alive? Carth Onasi, the star pilot?"

But Rhyska didn't hear and she didn't answer. All she did was glare at the mechanic. He didn't look at all sorry for anything that he'd said, but he did have the grace to at least duck his head guiltily at the mention of the Endar Spire and her crew.

The hope that Bastila had felt just moments before was dashed away. A question dying on her lips as the answer dawned on her. "We're it," she murmured softly in disbelief. "We're all the crew that's survived of a hundred and fifty? Just us?"

If it was possible for a disembodied person to feel ill, Bastila did. She wrapped her arms around herself as she recalled the Jedi's mantra. Even as she chanted the words softly to herself, they weren't enough to block out the rest of the conversation.

"Even kolto has its limits. The pod survivors taken in by Zelka won't be waking up anytime soon—if ever. And the one survivor we came across in the Under City we lost to the Rakghouls. I'm not sure Captain Tightpants can take another loss," Rhyska grumbled. "Especially not _hers_. I'm winning this."

"Just like that," The mechanic replied dubiously.

"Yep." Rhyska said as she tugged her swoop helmet back on. "Just like that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got another heat to run."

* * *

Vin pulled a tin from one of the many pockets on his coverall and plucked some chew out of it. Popping it into his mouth, he watched the temporary rider mount the bike and steer it back to the starter line. His pit crew gave them a wide berth. They knew him well enough to leave him be.

_She was just as bad as some of them duracrete-headed riders. Cocky bunch a idgits. _He expelled a long and tired sigh._ Least she had gumption, even if it came with a mouth._

"Just ain't no way a first timer's gonna win_," _Vin shook his head and muttered aloud. "She's gonna go flying off one them jump pads and right off the track. I can feel it in my bones..."

Bastila eyed the crotchety mechanic. "I don't care what you feel in your bones, old man. We are not going to lose—" Without warning, Vin suddenly spat a wad of chew at her translucent feet. She jumped back, her nose wrinkling with distaste. "Revolting!" the prim Jedi hissed as she turned and made her way to the swoop platform.

She stood alongside the rider and swoop bike, gazing intently at the track before them. Softly, Bastila murmured, "I don't know if you can hear me, but I know you can feel me on some level. Whatever it takes, we _must_ succeed. Everything depends on it."

* * *

Carth Onasi sat in the Beks' lounge and winced as a highly excitable teenage Twi'lek screeched, "Aw! C'mon, Rhyska! Put it into high gear already! You're killin' me!"

All around them, members non-essential to the swoop race had been milled about. Grounded. Even Gadon Thek was sitting in the lounge at his personal table surrounded by his guards, all of them cursing at the news holo of the swoop race.

Most everyone in the room was rooting for Delis and were less than pleased when their favorite had been overtaken by the Vulkars' top racer.

As he watched Rhyska's first official race, he wondered if he should just crawl under a rock. She didn't have the worst time, but she was so far down from the top she might as well have been.

A smack to his injured shoulder had him biting back a curse as Mission pointed to the holo and said, "See that, Carth? What'd I tell ya? That's a definite improvement over her practice runs."

"And yet nowhere near where we need her to be..." Carth muttered dejectedly. All around him, he could feel the stares of certain Beks. Leaning in towards the teen he asked in low tones, "Should I be worried?"

Mission blinked in confusion and looked around. "About what?"

"They don't look too happy."

The teen snorted and waved them off dismissively. "They'll get over it. Gadon gave Rhys his blessing. Those swoop crazy chubas aren't gonna mess with you. That'd be like them sayin' Gadon was wrong to let her ride in your place. And nobody who wants to live is gonna piss off Zaerdra." Mission flashed a quick look at the Bek leader's table before whispering conspiratorially, "I heard she once bent some moon-brained idiot into a pretzel for talkin' smack about Gadon."

Carth glanced over at Gadon and his entourage. As if aware that she was being spoken of, the violet Twi'lek looked in his direction and flashed him a glacial look. Nodding, he replied, "Wouldn't surprise me."

"Anyway, don't be such a downer, Carth," Mission chided. "Rhys is doin' the best she can."

His gaze flicked back to the holo where Rhyska waited for the pit crew to refuel and tune her bike before heading back for her second run. "I know she is, but we just can't afford to lose."

"I got a hundred credits that says she's gonna win," the teen announced as she swiped two shots of juma from a considerably cleaner and newly healed Felize as the Vulkars' former kitchen wench dropped off drink orders. Mission flashed the waitress a smile and handed Carth a shot.

"Are you even old enough to be throwing credits around like that?" he grumped as he eyed the shot warily.

Mission shook her head at him and snorted. "Credits are credits and this is the opener of the swoop season. Ain't nobody gonna say no if I wanna throw some credits around."

Carth arched a brow as he watched the Twi'lek knock back the shot and sigh. She gestured at the bartender for another one. "Look, if this was a race on how to pick a lock or rob a corpse, she'd win hands down. But this is about racing," he shook his head. "I just don't see how she's going to pull it off."

As another waitress came by and dropped off Mission's second shot, the teen announced, "Big Z put credits down on her, too."

Carth groaned and before Mission could down her second shot, he snatched it from her and knocked it back, following it with his own shot.

"Jeez, geezer! Can't you order your own juma?" the teen demanded.

A mild fire burned its way down his throat as he pleaded, "Just promise me we aren't going to have any Exchange thugs coming after us..."

"You gotta have a little faith, Carth," Mission said, as she pilfered her neighbor's drink and downed it. "Everything's gonna turn out okay. You'll see."

"Sure, kid," Carth muttered in chagrin. _Why do I always end up in a no-win situation?_ Sighing heavily, he turned his attention back to the swoop race. "Whatever you say..."

* * *

Bastila was ready the second time the swoop bike took off. Hovering just behind Rhyska, she placed her hands on the woman's shoulders and anchored herself.

Just as they came upon the first jump pad, Bastila reached for the tendril of power that she had felt within the woman earlier and was surprised to find that slip of power reaching out to her as well. As she made contact, a stream of unconscious thoughts poured into her...

_Fast, so fast...Damn, this suit's so uncomfortable...Why are there no comfortable suits when the fate of the galaxy is at stake?...Can't miss any jumps...Left, left, farther left... Stupid helmet!...Too far over... Shavit!...Missed one...Can't slow down...Carth's gonna kill me...Stupid suit...My underwear's riding up...Ignore it...Focus on the flying...Just keep flying...I wonder if this suit makes my butt look big...Gah! Screw the galaxy!...Blast it! Missed another jump...Focus! Gotta stay focused, Nevar..._

Bastila gasped as the connection between them snapped. The swoop bike slid over the finish line and she hissed in agreement, "Yes, please. Bloody well focus!"

Her head was spinning and she felt faint. During their connection, Bastila could feel the energy being drained out of her. She eyed Rhyska warily. _It's like she's a bloody siphon! _Turning to the holo board, Bastila's irritation and worry disappeared and was replaced by satisfaction. It worked! They had rocketed up the list and found temporary respite in the number seven slot._ Not bad for having missed two jumps,_ Bastila mused. _Next time, we won't miss any._

* * *

Vin stared at the unlikely racer in shock. He'd never seen anything like it. Ought ta yell at the racers a little more if this was the kind of turnaround he could expect. Nodding in approval, he turned back to the job at hand and directed his pit crew to check the engine and refill the coolant while the underdog wandered off to the refreshment area.

* * *

Pulling her helmet off, Rhyska wiped the sweat from her brow and tore open a hydra shot, downing it hungrily.

_Something's different,_ she mused to herself. Rhyska liked to think she knew herself pretty well. Knew her strengths, her weaknesses and prided herself on her ability to adjust accordingly to the situation at hand.

She had been pretty confident in her ability to navigate the swoop course. Deep down she knew she could beat the Vulkars' top time. What she couldn't factor was the number of times she'd have to run the course. She knew that chances were slim that she'd win it in three runs, but she had to try.

Her gaze flicked warily to her bike and the mechanics working double time to get her race worthy. With the Beks' accelerator gone, Gadon had decided to hedge his bets. He had kept his promise and let her ride in the race, but he'd given his Beks the better bikes.

She signed heavily. Honestly, she was just glad her own bike hadn't overheated and exploded. Ending up as a smudge on the track wasn't her idea of a good time.

But she had to admit, that last run was like nothing else. If pure exhilaration could be bottled and sold, Rhyska could almost swear it had been running through her veins when she raced through the course. She felt unstoppable.

It wasn't an unwelcome feeling, but she couldn't help but wonder where it had come from. She had been a bundle of raw nerves and then—serenity and utter certainty. She was sorry the race was over. It was an amazing feeling to bask in.

An announcement sounded overhead and the swoop board changed as new race times were processed. Her dramatic climb had been spotlighted, but her attention was caught by the lead Vulkar who had beaten his previous winning time.

Another Vulkar had claimed second place dropping Delis to third and Shandi to fifth._ So much for keeping second place, _she thought wryly.

A sharp whistle caught her attention from across the swoop pit. Her eyes settled on the Vulkars' lead racer as he and his pit crew began yelling obscenities across the way. Rhyska arched a brow at several of their rude gestures, but otherwise ignored them. Instead, she tapped on her com unit and said in a low tone, "You ready. Big Z?"

The sound of an irritated Wookiee trilling in her ear made her grin. _"I'm in position. Hurry up so we can get your friend and I can eat. My stomach is growling," _the Wookiee grumbled.

Rhyska grinned. "Desperately hungry Wookiee eats Vulkars and gets indigestion...can't have that."

"_I don't eat people! Not even annoying ones,"_ Zaalbar retorted. As an after thought he growled, _"Okay, maybe I would if I were starving and they were the only edible creatures left on the planet—but I'd rather it not come to that."_

In the distance, she watched the Vulkars' racer mimic a blaster with his hands. Slowly, he pointed it at her, aimed, smirked like a bastard, and fired. The sound of their laughter wiped the grin from her face.

The Beks' head mechanic caught the gesture and flashed her a weighty look. _Probably thinks I'm gonna bolt, or something._

"I hope you're ready, Big Fella. 'Cause it looks like the Vulkars want to start the party a little early."

_  
"Good," _the Wookiee trilled. _"I'm bored."_

* * *

Bastila watched the scene in silence. The Bek pit crew disappeared as soon as the bike was tuned. Left to stand alone, Rhyska wordlessly put on her helmet and hopped on her bike.

Bastila wondered who Rhyska was speaking to on the com unit. _Maybe it was Onasi? He was certainly a tall fellow. _And then it occurred to her that as unpleasant as Captain Onasi had been aboard the Endar Spire, he wasn't exactly a cannibal._ If not Onasi, then who? _And then all questions were swept aside as Rhyska rode her bike back to the platform and pumped herself up for her final run.

Coming up behind Rhyska, Bastila took a deep, calming breath and settled her hands on the woman's shoulders. As the swoop signal went from red to yellow, Bastila began her battle meditation, funneling all her energy into Rhyska.

And then the light went green.

* * *

**Author Note:** Many thanks to the awesome Bryn for smackin me with her grammar stick. I always need it. I did a little more editing and spicing up. So now, hopefully the Bek mechanic seems more alive.

To the readers who have been wondering what the heck happened to me...A godzilla-sized virus ate my computer...and then it died.

To old readers and new, feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing.

* * *


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